Hogwarts: Summer Camp
by MrsRen
Summary: Unable to help herself, but desperate to help others, Hermione creates what she hopes is a safe haven for those as damaged by the war as she is. Whether they are as broken as she is, or just needed an escape from the harsh reality. She never planned to work aside Draco Malfoy as fellow counselors, but she never planned for everything that happened after either. [EWE.]
1. Chapter 1

**Yeah, me again. I've lost control of my muse if you want the truth, and I can't control it. Don't think I'll be merrily jumping ship to ditch my stories, and I only mention it because I'm worried that's how posting another WIP will be taken. This story has been meticulously planned since the beginning of June. You will notice in the coming chapters that I have created original characters. I tried to keep the characters as close to canon as possible. There were some I had to take some creative freedom. I have the first three chapters written, and a detailed outline to light the way. This shouldn't be over 60k.**

 **Dedicated fully (hopefully she likes it, or this will be awkward) to TheMourningMadam. She's the only reason I continued to plan this, and create a full cast. Plus...I write a lot of Muggle AU's and I adore them, but I felt I was missing out on some magic.**

* * *

 _Healing takes courage, and we all have courage, even if we have to dig a little to find it._

 _Chapter One_

Hermione sat in the floor of the living room in the Burrow, the sunlight flickering through the windows as the sun rose above the horizon. She'd lost count of the hours she'd sat here, her ink pen scratching across the loose leaf paper. She recalled that it was shortly after midnight that Ron had called to her from the stairs, telling her not to stay up too late and he would be ready for when she wanted to crawl into bed.

Except she had stayed up for the entire night, and she couldn't decide if it was because the thought of cuddling up to him caused her own guilt to eat at her, or if it was because she needed to plan. No matter, she knew exactly what her boyfriend would think when he trudged down the stairs, but he wouldn't say a word to her. Not yet, and not until he was sure of what would follow. He'd kiss her before flooing to the Ministry, disappearing amongst the green smoke.

It would only be a few more days before he left for auror training, and she wouldn't see him for six weeks. A few days after that Hermione would find herself on the grounds of Hogwarts, in a set of cabins along the Great Lake. It didn't matter how many plans she made, or if she had several dozen lists. Nothing didtracted her from her shot nerves. Of course, this had all been her ruddy idea, and her Muggle heritage shining though.

Oh, and her incessant need to help everyone. Molly Weasley had rubbed her shoulder, voicing that it was because she couldn't help herself quite yet. This would be a welcome distraction. Shrugging her off with a weak agreement, Hermione made a quiet exit.

She was sure that everyone who lived in, or visited the Burrow knew her relationship with the youngest Weasley son was on a downhill slope. It was going to crash and burn, that much she was sure of, but she felt as if they owed it to themselves to at least try. Her eleven year old self would have thrown a fit if she knew present Hermione planned to call it quits so soon.

Shuffling her papers, she leaned against the edge of the sofa, clasping her hands in her lap. The final battle felt like it was a lifetime away, but she reminded herself once more that it had been nine days. It meant that it had been half a week since the new Minister of Magic delivered the devastating news that her parents would never remember her.

Ron, bless him, seemed to understand that Hermione didn't want comfort. She didn't yearn for nights stolen in front of a fire, or to cuddle her sorrows away. She wanted action, purpose, and so she'd gotten here.

Thinking of her parents reinforced the fact that for all intents and purposes, she was an orphan. Her parents were happy and alive in Australia. They didn't remember their daughter, or the last seventeen - eighteen years of their lives. Shethought of the others like her who were plunged into a world without their family to guide them.

Her stomach had turned on itself, and she had an idea. As a Muggle child, she'd attended a summer camp every year that she'd been able to, and had even visited those camps on her summers away from Hogwarts. It had ended around fifth year where she'd begun to stay with Ron and Harry, seamlessly taken in by the Weasley clan.

It was the answer for herself, to bring a bit of the home she missed back to her. And maybe, just maybe it was the best solution for the orphans who had been sleeping in a room at the Ministry. Determined to make a difference, she'd made an appointment with Shacklebolt. What good was this bloody Order of Merlin if she couldn't carry on the fight?

It hadn't taken much beyond telling the Minister of Magic that she would be doing this, that she would fund it herself by gathering donations herself. Donations she hadn't quite had yet, but it had worked out in the end. And that those children deserved a summer away from the memories of the war. And sitting inside the atrium as people stormed their way into work wasn't helping them, now was it?

Completely unaware of who all had contributed to Hermione Granger's charity fund, she'd spoken with Headmistress McGonagall to have cabins built on the Great Lake. Pleased with the help from Wizards in Great Britain, and that she hadn't taken away from the labor to rebuild Hogwarts, the pieces came together. Thank Merlin.

The only obstacle wasn't an obstacle. Considering she'd testified in his trial in front of the Wizengamot, Hermione was almost certain that Draco Malfoy wasn't going to murder children. At least ninety percent sure; though he might strangle her because they were bound to quarrel. McGonagall had chosen Hannah Abbott and Michael Corner be the other two 'counselors'.

It had broken her heart to hear how many of the lower years lost their parents. Whether it be a result of their parents being slain in the second Wizarding War, or if they were imprisoned in Azkaban. The children of Death Eaters were treated worse than dirt. She knew because she had seen them as she made her way into the Ministry.

Regarded as the lowest of the low, and it was only by her excellent self control that she hadn't blown up in the Minister's office.

"You didn't come to bed last night," Ron yawned, stomping down the stairs while stretching his arms over his head. "Did you sleep at all?" At her nod, he mumbled, "Figures."

Hermione brought her knees to her chest. "I'm sorry."

The couch dipped below his weight. "It's your choice." He told her, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead. "Though you should get some sleep. There won't be much time for sleep with all the activities you've planned for the Wizarding youth." He laughed, pulling her papers from the table. "Smores?" He arched an eyebrow.

"You're missing out, Weasley." Hermione nudged his kneecap with her elbow, snatching her lists back. "I was going to ask if you and Harry would sign some of the chocolate frog cards. I'm sure there will be several children who adore the pair of you."

Ron's smile was more relaxed than she felt. "I am rather dashing. I'm sure Harry would love to. Do you already have some?"

Digging around in her beaded bag, she pulled a stack of Ron's, wrapped in a rubber band, and handed him a quill. "Haven't you learned that I'm always prepared?" Hermione tied her hair up as she spent one of the last mornings with him. All while she criticized his atrocious penmanship.

* * *

On the first day of June, Hermione watched as everyone ate their breakfast in silence. She'd torn a biscuit apart on her plate, but hadn't taken a bite of Molly's cooking. Ron squeezed her thigh under the table, shooting her a small smile.

"Well," Arthur cleared his throat. "Big day, isn't it?"

Hermione grimaced. "I suppose so." Stabbing her fork into her food, she didn't offer anything else. It was hard enough to have slept beside Ron the night before, knowing that it was only drawing out the inevitable. "How do the two of you feel to be leaving for auror training?"

Harry shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "Isn't this child's play compared to facing off against Voldemort?"

Ginny scowled at the name as her mother did. "Harry," Hermione said quietly. "Maybe not use his name around here?"

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I think I should feel nervous, but I'm just ready to move onto the next step of whatever my life is."

Molly cleared her throat. "For the record, I still believe the two off you should finish your final year of Hogwarts like you were meant to."

Ron sniggered. "Our last year was basically a full practical exam. What else could we learn at that dusty old castle?" He ducked when Molly tossed a biscuit at his head. "Mum, we don't need to go back. Hermione is just going because she loves school."

Hermione didn't comment on that. She didn't feel like explaining again why it was so important to earn her NEWTs the old fashioned way, or why she needed to see her name at the top of the Hogwarts roster. Or whatever was left of it. Besides her two best friends, she didn't know of many from their year who were returning. Neville had written to her earlier this week to tell her that he would see her at the beginning of the term, but he was unable to help with Hogwarts, the summer camp edition.

Padma volunteered to help with the Ravenclaws, alongside Corner even though she wouldn't have an official title. It was assumed by Hermione that the girl's reasons were as selfish as Hermione's. Parvati hadn't survived the final battle, and a shiver ran down Hermione's back as she remembered Parvati, and Lavender jumping from a balcony as they were chased by Fenrir Greyback.

"Well, some of us still have to go back in September." Ginny grumbled, pushing her plate away from her. "I'm not hungry anymore." Her chair scratched against the wooden floor as she stormed from the room without another word.

Harry bit his lip. "She tried to convince me to drop out of the auror program last night." He clarified, pulling at his collar. "I'll go talk to her."

It left Hermione and Ron sitting with his parents. George was sealed away in his bedroom upstairs, and the two oldest Weasleys were out of the country. "I'm glad you're not like that," her boyfriend nudged her.

"Ron," Hermione was exasperated. "Can you blame Ginny? Harry died in the final battle, and now the two of you are off to continue merrily risking your lives."

"Chasing evil Wizards is what we're good at," he began, and the table shook as Molly slammed her cup down. "Mum, please,"

"I will never stop worrying about you," Molly told him with a weak smile. "Or Harry, or you, for that matter." She pointed towards Hermione. "This is our last breakfast for a while, and-"

Errol swooped into the kitchen, dropping a letter in front of Hermione. She smiled sheepishly to her 'adoptive' parents. "I think this is my cue."

"Who is that from?" Ron flipped the letter over, unable to recognize the handwriting. "Is this Padma's handwriting?"

Hermione snorted, taking it from his grasp. "No, that's just what nice penmanship looks like, Ronald. It's from Malfoy, which means I need tofetch him."

His eyes narrowed. "I understand why the Ministry wants someone to chaperone him, but I don't understand why that someone has to be you. Why wouldn't they have an auror go with him? You're hardly,"

Hermione arched one eyebrow, daring him to finish that sentence. "Perhaps it's because no one else has ever punched Draco Malfoy in the face."

"I can go with you, make sure he doesn't pull any tricks."

She shook her head. "It's not necessary. Not to mention you're more likely to start a fight with him than to prevent one. Tell Harry bye for me? And Ginny, of course." She stood from her chair, hurrying round the table to squeeze both Molly and Arthur. "I'll see you at the end of the summer."

"And you will not make me wait a moment longer," Molly warned.

With a smile, Hermione pulled her wand from the pocket of her jumper, adjusted the crossbody strap of her beaded bag, and apparated from the Burrow with a loud crack.

* * *

The letter was only a formality. She'd spoken with Malfoy via floo a week earlier - she'd actually demanded a face to face meeting, but naturally he argued with her. He told her that he was staying at the Leaky Cauldron, and if he was forced to have Granger as his babysitter, then he would meet her in the lobby. What she knew of the surviving Malfoy was everything.

She prided herself on possessing all of the facts, and that was exactly what she had done. In her luggage that she'd already had sent ahead to her living quarters, there were several biographies tucked away. Taking careful care with the former Death Eaters, was it a surprise that his was the longest?

Hermione didn't think he had any secrets left to hide any longer. Malfoy Manor had been gutted by the Ministry. Curse Breakers had visited the dreary home, and torn through it. If there was anything left, she wasn't sure he would have wanted it.

Ron had told her that she shouldn't see herself in every victim of the war, and especially not Draco Malfoy. His only redeeming moment had been when he couldn't kill Headmaster Dumbledore, he said.

False - Draco had switched sides before the battle, and not after as Rita Skeeter claimed. Hermione had been there in the room of hidden things. She'd felt her heart break when one of his friends was engulfed in the fiendfyre, and she had been the one to throw her hand out and tug Malfoy away from the flames.

It wasn't as if she'd had the chance to ask him nonchalantly, "Was it watching your mother be brutally mauled that made you switch sides? At what point did you decide that Lord Voldemort wasn't worth following?" Drawing her own conclusions, and piecing together the information she'd found at the Ministry, Hermione could put the puzzle together.

The Malfoy's had been brutally punished as the three of them escaped the Manor, and as Dobby was slain in the process.

Upon their arrival to the looming structure that stretched into the eerie sky, Lucius Malfoy looked like a follower that the Dark Lord had scraped from the bottom of the barrel. He was frail, his eyes sunken into his skin. He looked nothing like the proud man who had insulted her in her second year. His wife, Narcissa, remained to be seen.

The Dark Lord hasn't punished Bellatrix at all. Hermione didn't even consider the punishment as Lucius Malfoy's, or his wife's.

Really, she thought the price of their escape had fallen on Draco's shoulders. To have lost her parents was one thing. She couldn't imagine watching her own mother ripped apart by a feral werewolf while her father allowed it. Kingsley had allowed her to see the report, but after skimming just enough to pick the truths from the Daily Prophet, she'd closed the manilla colored file. It wasn't her place to read his brutal testimony.

Hermione leaned against the counter, counting the sets of keys in her head. It was a quiet Monday morning, and she absently twisted the bracelet adorning her wrist. It was a present from Ron, one that she dutifully wore around him because she hadn't had the heart to tell him she was allergic to it. She slipped it off, glamouring the slightly green skin below it, and dropped it into her bag.

"Granger," Malfoy spoke gruffly from behind her. "Did you just roll out of bed?"

She blinked, "No?"

He chuckled under his breath, raising a dragon hide bag, and slinging it over his shoulder. The edge of his Dark Mark peeked out from under his sleeve, and as her eyes fell to it, his eyes narrowed on her while he ripped the sleeve down. "So you made the conscious decision to walk around with your hair looking like a bird's nest?"

She glared at him, turning on her heel to walk out of the establishment with him right behind her. "Do you have everything you need? Or will we need to make a stop by..Malfoy Manor?" She grimaced at her fumble.

Malfoy scowled. "No," his tone clipped. "I don't need to stop anywhere else. Are we apparating?"

She shook her head, stepping over a puddle in the middle of Diagon Alley. "If it's all the same to you, I loathe traveling by Apparition, and I had planned for us to take the Hogwarts Express."

He looked bored, and he gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. "That's satisfactory. Apparition is uncomfortable, isn't it?"

"I know, it's awful, and -"

"Granger," he snapped. "My attempts at awkward small talk are just my trying to be civil. You would be wise not to tempt fate."

Her mouth snapped shut, and she remembered exactly why she had struck him in third year.

* * *

Crossing into the platform of nine and three quarters should have felt like coming home. Yet it didn't. The scarlett Hogwarts Express reminded her of what had been her happiest place, and nostalgia bubbled up. Hot tears welled up, but she squashed the urge to cry. She wouldn't let herself be so emotional in front of the Slytherin at her side.

Hermione watched in silence as Malfoy moved his wand, his incantation of "Wingardium Leviosa." perfectly clear. He levitated his trunk behind him, the edge coming a little too close to her temple as it cut a corner. Judging from the barely there laugh she heard, he'd done it on purpose.

The pair of them sat across from each other in one of the compartments, in what would have stayed silence if she hadn't broken it. "Can I set a ground rule with you?" She asked quietly, pulling papers from her bag, and a refilling quill.

He snorted loudly. "Only one?" His admonished tone didn't set so well with her, and a flash of turning him into a ferret once more flashed through her brain. "Obviously, Granger. I assumed part of making this journey alone was for you to scold me like a child."

She shook her head. "That's not what this is, Malfoy. I knew you wouldn't feel comfortable around me, and I thought having Michael, or Hannah here might make that worse for you."

He stared at her, clasping his hands under the table, and leaned toward her as if he were trying to gauge how genuine she was. "Oh? So you were only thinking of me then?"

She swallowed, "I wanted to judge how well I could trust you for myself before we disembarked."

"And if I fail?" He drawled, satisfied he'd wrung the truth from her. Malfoy slung his arm over the top of the seat as he leaned back. "What would happen to me then?"

"If I believed you to be a danger to myself, or anyone this summer, you would return to whatever you were doing before I met you in the Leaky this morning."

"Ah, so groveling. Please, Granger," he motioned to her. "Set your rules; I have nothing better to do."

"Don't call me Mudblood." Hermione tried to sound calm, but the awkwardness of everything set her on edge. "Not me, not Dennis Creevey. Don't belittle anyone because of their -"

His eyes flashed, and his teeth were bared for a brief moment. "I will not call you, or anyone that slur again, Granger." Malfoy promised. "I can't tell you I've overcome my prejudices, I suppose, but you don't have to remind me."

"Even after Voldemort, you haven't," she couldn't help herself from asking, from trying to pick him apart so she could understand.

"Next thing, Granger." He sighed, massaging his temples. "I'd really rather not listen to you for the rest of the train ride."

She shrugged. "It's pretty simple, Malfoy. You were a prefect; you understand how to wrangle kids. Catch them if they're out of bed, keep the peace, and really that's about it. Just..show a little tact."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm aware that these are orphans, and considering I'm now one myself I'm not going to be a prick to the little shites."

"You could start with not calling them 'little shites'."

He waved her off. "Will there be a house competition for the summer holiday?" He asked her, and at her falter, the edges of his lips quirked up into a smirk. "You hadn't considered it? We should. Perhaps it won't be received well at first, but it gives a semblance of structure."

She nodded rather dumbly.

"What? You just said yourself that I was a prefect."

"I hadn't expected you to have good ideas," Hermione defended. "I'll let you head that then, since it was your idea."

"Sounds like a horrible idea, but fine. To my understanding, I have some children to watch,"

"To mentor, to be a role model for," she chimed, but he immediately cut her off.

"Which we will get to how I'm the world's worst role model, but first, tell me about these children I'm to take care of this summer. It wouldn't do for me to hop off this train and not know any of their names." At her surprise, he rumbled, "Honestly, Granger, what's wrong with you? I do have manners; I just didn't use them with you."

"Charming."

"I am," he insisted, holding a hand out. "Come now, I know you must have photographs. You wouldn't do anything by halves."

Hermione slapped the files into his hand, twisting in her seat to place her back against the wall and swing her legs into the seat. Transfiguring a chair into a blanket, she curled up under it. "You're good friends with Theodore Nott, so I assume this one will be familiar to you." She reached across the table to flip open the first file. Her heart ached as the way his brows furrowed together. "Henry Nott: the eleven year old cousin of Theodore. His parents were captured following the final battle, and killed in a face off against aurors."

He nodded, his fingers tightening around the little boy's picture. Hermione knew it well, had seen it in her dreams occasionally even though it was ridiculous to be attached to so many strangers. It was a nice photograph though, where he could be seen rolling down a hill. "I attended the funeral for his parents. Awful thing to have left behind someone so young. You don't need to discuss Henry with me."

"Could I ask why he isn't with Theo?" Hermione asked carefully.

The anger she expected didn't surface. "He left Great Britain without telling anyone where he was going. He has nothing here, Granger, or so he thinks. Henry was devastated. Next we have one Adelaide Murton?"

She sucked in a harsh breath. "All of the stories are awful, Malfoy, but hers is particularly violent. Her mother was all she had, and she was raped in their home, and then murdered by a Death Eater when she wouldn't allow them to stay in her home. I don't know why they left Adelaide when they must have known she was in the home."

"I'll tell you why: Voldemort didn't want Pureblood lives lost. He would have considered her to be a tool for the future. The mother was expendable. I think I saw her crying in a stairwell after Christmas last year. She seemed like a sweet girl."

"I'm sure she is."

Her file thudded against the table. "Go to sleep, you're about to fall asleep while talking. It's unprofessional."

"Malfoy,"

"I know how to read, Granger. I will read through these myself. Rest assured if I were going to use a killing curse, it would not be on you. Now shut up."

She rolled onto her side with a huff. It wasn't her fault it was impossible to sleep with Ron's snores on the nights she did finally make it into bed.

* * *

 **Maybe you needed a little sunshine for your winter - unless you're in the southern hemisphere, in which case I am right on time I think. Feedback makes my entire world go round.**


	2. Chapter 2

**It is...one in the morning here in Oklahoma and I'm bored, and this was already in my docs ready to go. I'm already two chapters ahead on Wanderlust, so I might as well update this and dig into chapter three tomorrow. Which chapter three is mostly written. Thank you so much to all of the readers who followed (NINETY ONE?), favorited, and reviewed! I don't usually reply to everyone because no one ever replies and I don't like to creep readers out. But please know that each email I get makes me whole day! This is roughly planned for twentyish chapters.**

* * *

 _Chapter Two_

It felt familiar, stepping off the Hogwarts Express as it rolled into Hogsmeade station with a final wheeze from the engine. Hermione could vividly recall each time she had disembarked alongside Harry, and Ron through the years. She was reminded of how busy the village typically was as students returned, and she knew it wasn't right to judge her surroundings so immediately after the war, but -

Hogsmeade was empty. The doors of the shops were closed, and with what she imagined what could feel like the final nail in Malfoy's twisted psyche - again, the profile Kingsley left with her threatened to weigh her down at her side -, Madam Rosmerta was there at the end of the platform, her arms crossed.

Hermione glanced over her shoulder, not sure what she expected to see, but Malfoy's face was blank. Malfoy grabbed her shoulder suddenly, earning a squeak as he pushed her backward. She nearly toppled over their trunks, and her eyes were wide with worry. If Malfoy flung a curse at Rosmerta, if the way his fingers were wrapped around his wand were any indication, she wasn't sure how she was going to explain it to the Minister of Magic, and even less the Wizengamot.

"You don't need your wand." Rosmerta told him quietly, walking toward him with the hem of her skirt dragging along the wooden platform. The boards were old, rickety even, and they creaked under her weight. "Really, boy, I want to talk to you, not kill you."

She didn't need to be in front of him to know his eyes had narrowed, and that his jaw was clenched. Nonetheless, he slipped his wand back into his pocket, and showed his hand. The show of courtesy was more than Hermione could have expected from him, but she was reminded of his voice as he sneered that he did have manners. Hermione watched uneasily, wary that she would have to break up a duel.

Who could blame Rosmerta if she did want blast Malfoy?

"Then what do you want?" Malfoy sneered. "If you're here to make threats of how you're going to take revenge on me for what I've done to you, I'm afraid you'll have to get in line. Half of the Wizarding World is already ahead of you."

Rosmerta laughed, an airy sound that was too cheerful to belong in the dead town Hogsmeade had become. "It's nothing like that."

Hermione glanced between them, startled.

The older woman rested a hand on his shoulder, a motion he flinched away from. Malfoy's move were subtle, and if Hermione had torn her eyes away from him for even a moment, she would have missed it. "I had the chance to speak to the portrait of Albus Dumbledore, you know?"

He shook his head. "I've no idea why I would know, but the old coot was always meddling. Did he try to convince you to forgive me?"

Hermione's hand fell to her side, finally letting go of her wand _just in case_ , and she was stunned. Through the trials of captured Death Eaters, she had sat through discussions of pure evil. The topic of revels made her stomach turn, and it had been more than once she'd excused herself to vomit in the loo. A feat not easily achieved for her, as she thought she'd been through the worst in the last year.

Malfoy hadn't been captured. In an odd circumstance, he handed himself over, but not to the Ministry. When he'd wound up on the door place of Grimmauld Place, he's surrendered his wand to Harry, and let the Boy Who Lived take him to the aurors. It came out that Dumbledore had tried to save him, but it wasn't until the Wizengamot allowed the portrait of Albus Dumbledore to testify in Malfoy's trial that she understood what transpired that night in the Astronomy Tower.

But forgiveness? It wasn't a word she'd ever associated with Malfoy.

Rosmerta's laugh was like windchimes, light, and not at all like the woman Malfoy had targeted on a night in Hogsmeade, and then been used as a henchman for the Death Eaters. "Albus asked me if I could ever forgive you, yes. For now the answer is a very solid absolutely not."

Draco nodded, turning his head up as if it were the only way to keep the upper hand. "Not that I blame you. I'm not sure what business you have talking to me anyway, but I'll be," As he turned to levitate his trunk once more, Rosmerta's hand shot out to grab him by the crook of his elbow. "Get your hands off of me." He snarled, smacking the offending hand away.

"Dumbledore wanted me to pass along a message. That's why I'm here, not because I have a vested interest in your soul remaining intact."

He scoffed. "How optimistic of the former headmaster considering I'm positive I only have shards of a soul. Sod off, and keep his sickenly sweet, false words to yourself." He levitated both of their trunks, the latch of his scraping against Hermione's back through her thin shirt. "Don't look at me like that. Let's go, Granger." He barked bitterly.

With a shrug of her shoulders, and with her lips set into a scowl, Hermione waved goodbye to the barmaid, and followed Malfoy. "You do know where to go, don't you?" Hermione called.

He didn't offer a reply.

* * *

Part of hosting a summer camp that was on the edge of the Great Lake, and at the edge of the Forbidden Forest was to make sure it was safe for children. Considering some of them were younger, and that she knew exactly what several of them could get into, it took serious vetting by volunteers to comb through the forest. There was a ward set in place if anyone were to reach a certain part in the tree line, or even a certain area of the water.

As Malfoy walked beside her, sometimes falling a pace, or even two behind her, she mulled over what she would say to the others. Hannah and Michael had been clear choices, McGonagall said. However with Leanne Smith returning as well, and the interaction with Rosmerta still fresh in her mind, she wasn't sure how any of this could go well.

The kids would arrive the next day so Hermione would have enough time to review anything with the other counselors. And as they approached, slipping through the invisible ward, Hermione smirked when a mask of surprise covered his face. "Did you think we were just going to be out in the open?" She laughed.

The weather was only slightly warm, but there was a breeze once they stepped inside the wards. A planned feature by her as it was dreadfully hot this summer, and she had no desire to chase children while sweating her proverbial bollocks off.

"Well, no." He replied, his tone sour and he didn't make the effort to look at her. "Typically you can't feel the wards when you pass through them." Malfoy noted.

"I know that." She said simply, shouldering her beaded bag. "When I came out here a week ago to create the wards - there's several layers -, I wasn't able to create one where we would be alerted to a breach without also feeling it as we stepped through. It's tailored to let the counselors in, and out, but not the children. I suppose I could probably add Padma to the outgoing, but beyond that, it will allow aurors in, or Kingsley."

He scoffed at her use of the Minister of Magic's first name. "Not your precious Wizengamot? I would have thought they would be stopping by to make sure I'm not teaching young minds the Dark Arts."

She snorted, her hand flying up to cover her face at the loud sound, and his smirk widened. "Especially not them. They don't even care about these kids, whether they're unable to take care of themselves, or our age. I understood I needed their approval, but there is nothing saying I have to let them see what's going on for themselves."

"Surely they would have put that in the agreement."

She tutted. "No, they didn't. I had it looked over three time just to be sure. Their only terms were that wards be established," she ticked off the first item on her fingers, "that you were established at the Slytherin counselor, which we both know they had their own reasons for, and that we could only have two children per counselor. Not including Padma, of course, as she'll help Michael I'm sure."

"Yet it includes Leanne Smith, and Lisa Turpin, who are our age." Malfoy said. "Smith will be a problem for me."

Sighing, Hermione shrugged. "That sounds like your problem, Malfoy. As long as you don't curse, or hex her, I can't say I care. I'm sure that's exactly what the Wizengamot would want - for you to slip up, mucking up your probation so they could toss you into Azkaban." The _with your father_ remained unsaid.

He'd heard it anyway, and his eyes were hard as he stared ahead at the two individuals sitting at a table. "If I didn't know any better, it would sound almost as if you were warning me on how to stay out of trouble."

She looked up at him, a foot shorter than him. "I didn't testify in your trial so you could throw away your freedom." She mumbled, and then hurried toward Michael and Hannah without another word.

Their trunks landed on the ground with a hard thud. Malfoy hung back, shoving his hands into his pockets while he looked around the camp. There were four cabins, each with Hogwarts houses carved painstakingly into a sign above the doors.

Michael enveloped her in a one armed hug, giving her a tight squeeze. The former member of Dumbledore's Army looked at Malfoy suspiciously, but what else could Hermione have expected? "It's nice to see you, Hermione." Michael said gruffly. "Malfoy."

The blond didn't say a word as he nodded in their direction.

"How is Cho?" Hermione asked, reaching out to hug Hannah. She'd never been close with the Hufflepuff, and she'd never had a reason considering Hannah believed some of the lies about Harry surrounding Cedric's death.

"Broke up after the Battle. She's home with her parents." Michael replied.

"Oh." Hermione muttered, red blossoming in her cheeks for even bringing it up, but it's not like she could have known. "It's good to see you, Hannah." She said softly.

Hannah's hair was tied in a lazy ponytail, and while she was still smiling to Hermione, her eyes kept darting toward Malfoy. "Hermione, I don't know if,"

She sighed. Clearly she needed to get this out of the way early. "Everyone should have a seat," she said loudly. "That includes you, Malfoy." Hermione added, taking a seat beside Corner, and pulling her notes from her bag. Having bound them together, the loose leaf paper she was so fond of hadn't been destroyed inside of her bag. Tapping her wand to the small square, she restored her notes to normal size. "I think we should talk about the...er, thestral in the room."

"Why the fuck would anyone decide Malfoy should be here?" Michael snapped, eyeing the blond angrily as he slid onto the very end of the bench, putting as much distance between him and Hannah. "Hermione, I don't understand how you could have ever allowed him to be here."

Tapping her fingers against the paper, her eyes narrowed. "How would you treat the Slytherins?" Hermione asked.

Michael spluttered. "I - what does that even mean? Just because they're in that house doesn't mean I would -"

She cleared her throat. "Don't lie to me. You'll find there's very little I don't know about any of you, and as you might recall, you ran into Ronald in Diagon Alley a few weeks ago? You had some terrible things to say about the house as a whole."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever Ron told you,"

"I believe I just told you not to lie to me." Hermione snapped, dropping her ink pen to the paper. "It wasn't Ron that you came across. It was me under a Polyjuice Potion, so forgive me if I don't believe you could treat those two children fairly." She glared at Corner. "I don't think any of us are happy about Malfoy being here, Malfoy included."

The man across from her nodded. Hermione wasn't sure when she started thinking of him as a man, rather than a child, but she imagined the turning point must have been during his trial. "The last place I want to be this summer is with all of you, but I'm here." He muttered.

"I don't feel safe with him here." Hannah said quietly, clasping her hands in her lap. "I'm not sorry for that. You let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts." It was the first time in the conversation anyone had spoken to him directly.

"I know." Malfoy said, and for just once, if there could have been an ounce of remorse on his face, it would have solved several of Hermione's problems.

"How could you do that?" Hannah screamed, but she didn't move for her wand, or at all. "You ruined the lives of so many people, and for what?"

"Hannah -" Hermione tried to interrupt.

"Granger, shut _up_." Malfoy hissed. "Hufflepuff has every right to be angry. Instead of trying to play the mediator, why don't you let her get it out?"

"My name is Hannah!" She shouted.

Malfoy blinked. "You make the mistake that I honestly care."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about, Hermione!" Michael groaned. "You can't seriously think this is a good idea,"

She'd had enough, and it was a mistake to grip her pen in her hand once more because she broke it in half. Droplets of blue ink landed on her notes, and she growled, vanishing the broken pen with little more than a tap of her wand. "I don't care." She bit out. Hermione's hand was stained with ink now, seeping into creases of her palm. "For better, or worse, Malfoy will be here the entire summer. If that's not something you believe you can handle, I suggest you tell me now so I can alert your replacements."

Michael shook his head. "I'm sorry, did you say replacements?"

Malfoy snorted loudly. "Did you think the swottiest Gryffindor of them all wouldn't have a backup plan?" He mused.

The Ravenclaw counselor glared at Malfoy before looking back at Hermione. "I'll be fine, but if he,"

Hermione shook her head. "There will be no fighting. If there is, you'll leave. It's a simple as that. This summer is more than putting up with someone you despise. There will be children who are young, and impressionable. Malfoy already knows what he's to do, and if he can accept that, I think the pair of you should be able to save face. Hannah, if you need to leave because you don't feel safe - I understand."

The girl looked incredibly uncomfortable, but she also looked like she wanted to draw her wand, and fire a stunner right into Malfoy's pointy features. "What's guaranteeing that he isn't going to let a Death Eater in here? He's done it before."

Malfoy sucked in a sharp breath before standing from the table, and walking away. Taking long strides across some ten meters, he wrenched open the door the the Slytherin cabins, the one that had _Counselor_ scrawled over it. The door slamming shut scared the birds above them from their trees.

Hermione sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. "Hannah - I understand." She swallowed roughly. "I know this wasn't what you could have wanted, and if you decide to leave, I can't stop you. What I am asking you is to try to make this work." She finished, raking her fingers through her tangled curls. Her hair was matted down by her nap on the train.

Hannah looked scandalized. "How could you of all people ask me to do that? Doesn't it bother you that he's here? With the time you spent in Malfoy Manor? With the things he did?"

"Of course it bothers me." Hermione replied. "I think the war hurt us, Hannah, all of us - including the people that were on the other side."

"What the _fuck_?" Michael hissed, slamming his fist down on the table. "Are you defending him?"

"We are the faces that these kids will see everyday for the rest of this summer before they return to Hogwarts. Some of them can't sleep at night, some are wary of even coming here, and one girl has not spoken since the Carrows attacked her." Hermione said lowly, looking to the Slytherin cabin from the corner of her eye. "We need to be the example for them, and that includes getting along with Malfoy."

"He's a Death Eater," Michael told her. "I couldn't give a pygmy puff's arse if he wasn't thrown in Azkaban. He should have been subjected to the Dementor's Kiss like his fucking father."

Hermione's cheeks were red, flushed as Michael leaned forward to yell in her face. Merlin help Corner if Malfoy did hear him- as she was certain Malfoy would blow the Ravenclaw to fucking bits. "You're out of line." Hermione told him, her eyes narrowing, and her fingers gripping the ancient oak table tightly. "And to be completely clear, he _was_ a Death Eater. His memories were ripped straight out of his head for the Wizengamot to see, and for me to see."

"It doesn't matter that he switched sides -"

"What would you do if Voldemort was living in your bloody house?" Hermione yelled, standing up and pressing her palms to the table. "I get it! Draco Malfoy was a prick, is a prick," she corrected smoothly without missing a beat, and unless he'd thrown up a silencing charm, he'd definitely heard her.

"He is a monster." Corner argued, standing, seemingly not willing to be sitting down while Granger tore into him. "The entire Wizarding World knows just who he is, and I would think you would know that too. If your ar -" Michael cut himself off abruptly, and it was the first time she'd seen a smidge of regret for his words on his face.

"Michael.." Hannah warned under her breath, leaning forward to brace her face in her hands. "We're supposed to be the ones who can get along." She whimpered.

Hermione's nostrils flared, and her fingers twitched to grab her wand. But no, as she'd just said they needed to be examples, and how could she hex the boy across from her without making herself out to be a hypocrite? "If my arm is what, Corner?"

"Well, if your arm is any indication of what his side was capable of, then you shouldn't be so keen to let the bastard in! You didn't attend Hogwarts last year, you don't -"

"I know every single last thing Malfoy did as the Head Boy last year. If he used an unforgivable, I know about it. If he made someone bloody cry, I know about it. You're right, Michael, I wasn't in Hogwarts last year. It's a miraculous thing that I wasn't because the Carrows would have killed me on the platform. No, I was fighting for my life, and gallivanting through the Scottish countryside while hunting horcruxes!"

"I know what a horcrux is." He grumbled, sensing the lesson that was already coming.

Hermione gnashed her teeth together, a horrible grinding sound on the inside of her mouth. "Right, you want to talk about my arm, don't you?" She asked sarcastically, plucking her wand from her pocket, vanishing the glamour.

 _MUDBLOOD._

It had already scarred, light pink, waxy skin that was raised in comparison to the rest of her arm. "I think you must be under some illusion that Draco Malfoy did this to me. It was Bellatrix Lestrange who tortured me, who grabbed a cursed knife from the kitchens, and then carved into my arm. Make no mistake, I know exactly who the monsters are."

"You could fight for him to leave. If anyone could make it happen, it would be you." Hannah protested weakly. "I don't understand why you're defending him, Hermione."

Hermione glanced at her. The girl looked as if she were on the verge of tears, and really, Hermione couldn't blame her a bit. Not when Malfoy had done horrible things the year before. "I know the two of you must think that only the good guys deserve to have a good life. The world was never made up of good guys and Death Eaters - if Malfoy had done anything Voldemort disapproved of, he would have died, or it would have been his parents."

Michael laughed pitifully. "So you expect us to forgive Malfoy because he was just trying to save his own skin? His mother's? Look how well that turned out."

Her wand was on him in a millisecond. "I will let it be known that if Malfoy hexes you because you mentioned Narcissa Malfoy, that I'm not going to stop him. His mother is off limits. Would you have done anything different? Family was everything to someone like Malfoy!"

"I couldn't give less of a shit."

"So you've mentioned," Hermione said dryly. "Draco Malfoy deserves to fix his life as much as any of us do."

Michael rolled his eyes. "This is pathetic. He deserves -"

Her wand sparked, and her lips thinned in anger. "I'll hex you into the next century if you finish that sentence."

"So Malfoy stays then." Hannah commented. Hermione nodded. "I'll stay, if only out of stubborness. I think the real problem is going to be Leanne Smith."

Michael smirked. "Some of us aren't so quick to defend traitors. Maybe they need to revoke your Order of Merlin, Granger."

" _Stupefy!"_ Hermione Granger was decidedly in a mood as Michael blinked when he landed against the ground so roughly. "Are you staying, or leaving?"

He mumbled that he would stay.

* * *

 **I hope to see you again in a week with another update! If you'd like to smash that button and so kindly tell me what you think, that's great! Or if you see me in the groups on Facebook when I post this aesthetic. I'm heading to bed now. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Two updates from me on WIP's in the same day? What? First of all, I do truly apologize for a month in between updates. It's tricky for me to switch gears from Wanderlust to this fic, but at least it's fully planned? I hope you enjoy this installment! Next chapter we have scary stories around a campfire! Once the year is over, I will be free from deadlines, and will endeavor to tacke this in a month, or two. :)**

 **All errors belong to either myself, or to Grammarly. Most likely me though. This should be regularly beta'd soon so I don't have to put you through my awful grammar.**

* * *

Given with how well it had gone over with Micheal, and Hannah, Hermione's already low expectations for Leanne Smith sunk even lower. When the other two counsellors slunk off to their cabins, Hermione stayed at the table, her head resting in her hands. Yes, she'd expected the pushback even though she'd sent them both owls long before she was due to fetch Malfoy from the Leaky Cauldron.

Both of them had the chance to bow out respectfully, but it was clear they thought they stood the tiniest chance against the decision of the Wizengamot. Hermione couldn't make Hannah believe that the former Death Eater wasn't a threat; she understood that but also understood just how many spells had gone into protecting this area.

Protecting the occupants from the outside world was really child's play for any fully-fledged Witch or Wizard. It was fortifying everyone from one person inside of the wards that had thrown Hermione for a loop. On a gold chain, similar to the one her time turner had hung from, around her neck there was a simple gold charm.

It wasn't in her interest to tell anyone else, least of all Malfoy, that the delicate charm would tell her if Malfoy made a move beyond the wards. Akin to the trace on his wand that led straight back to the Ministry, who seemed to be waiting on hot coals for him to slip up - the charm would burn against her clavicle if Draco Malfoy fucked up.

There was quite literally nothing he could do without Hermione Granger knowing. At least not if it involved Dark Magic. Harry thought she was naive to believe that the charm wasn't completely necessary. Of course, she would wear it every day of the summer, perhaps even when they returned to Hogwarts, but she had doubts he would do anything. She'd sat front row of his trial, and despite how much he preferred to act like a prick, Hermione knew that he had regrets.

"Stunned Corner, did you?"

Hermione lifted her head from her hands, there must have been imprints of her palms under her eyes, to look at him. Malfoy was blocking out the moon as he stood over her, and around them, the Forbidden Forest had fallen silent. There was a soft sound that was the water of the Great Lake lapping lazily against the shore.

Slowly, she nodded, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth. "He deserved it, but I shouldn't have done it at all."

"Right. We're meant to be examples." It sounded suspiciously like laughter as Hermione tore her eyes away from him. "If you ask me, it could just be a lesson of not putting up with anyone's shite."

Hermione snorted, letting her arms fall to the table. "Somehow I don't think that's how small children would take it. They would probably think it's okay to wallop someone and solve their problems with violence."

There was a low sound in his throat as he sat across from her. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Did you just laugh?" She gaped, pulling her hands back when she accidentally brushed the bare skin of his arm. "I honestly can't tell."

Rolling his eyes, he replied, "It was a laugh, but to be clear I was laughing at you. You say how children shouldn't learn to solve their problems with violence, but -"

"Don't you dare bring up third year, Malfoy," Hermione grumbled under her breath, looking to the side where she could see the grass being blown by a slight breeze. "It was years ago."

However, he continued as if she hadn't spoken, "you're the one who walloped me in the face in third year."

"You deserved it." She folded her arms across her chest, her fingers brushing against the soft fabric of her shirt. There was a chill in the air now, making the hair on her arms stand up. It brought back memories of how the wind changed, and the moment they knew snatchers were nearly on top of them.

He smirked, lacing his fingers together as he clasped his hands in front of him. "So did Corner apparently."

She turned her nose up at him, staring to the side. "If I hadn't done it, you would have and then I would have had even more problems." The silence was short. Hermione couldn't imagine sitting quietly across from him when everything in her was screaming that it was far too strange, and she should just turn in for the night. "He shouldn't have talked about her."

Clenching his jaw was the only display of emotion she got from him. It wasn't like she expected him to say anything about his mother at all.

Hermione looked down at her lap while brushing hair behind her ears. "I'm sorry she's gone." There was a delay between words as she struggled to form an apology.

Malfoy jerked his head, and it took a passing moment for her to recognize it as a nod. "I'm..sorry," it sounded as if he were testing the word out on his tongue as if he'd never used it before. Maybe he hadn't, "about your parents."

Swallowing, she nodded. There was a grimace twisting her lips. This wasn't what she wanted to happen. While they would have to spend the summer is close quarters, as teammates - she shuddered internally - Hermione had no desire to know Draco Malfoy. "Thank you," she whispered. "Do you think you're ready for tomorrow?"

"Are you asking if I can refrain from provoking Leanne?" A nod. "I won't attempt to make it worse." He told her, and it wasn't much of a reaffirmation.

"She's going to have it out for you."

He blinked. "Well, obviously. I nearly caused her best friend to die. I can't blame her, and after the last year," Malfoy cringed. It was the only display of emotion that she had ever seen contort his face as it did. "Leanne could try to kill me in my sleep, and I wouldn't stop her." He finally said.

Hermione said nothing as she stood, slipping the strap of her bag over her shoulder. She grabbed her notes, and then she handed it to him. At the puzzled look on his face, really it was just his eyebrows drawing together, she explained, "It's everything on every person that will be here. The ones I gave you earlier were for Slytherin. Am I correct in thinking you won't be able to sleep?"

"Suppose so," he murmured, cracking open to the first page. "Activities?"

She nodded. "It's everything I have for the summer. The campers biographies, anything noteworthy, psych profiles from St. Mungos. Eventually Michael, and Hannah," she motioned behind her to the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff cabins, "will see it as well. If you're sure that you will be up.."

He waved her off. "Go to sleep, Granger. There are bags under your eyes. Perhaps in that bag of yours, you have a book on beauty charms? Just because you don't care how you look doesn't mean you have to punish the rest of us."

Hermione didn't reply as she dragged her feet, making her way to the cabin. Each cabin was built from wood and magic. If she laid her palm against the wall, she would feel the magic coursing through the materials. "Alohomora," she whispered, aiming her wand at the lock. Closing the door behind her, Hermione set the password to the name of her Kneazle.

Crookshanks was already napping in the middle of the bed. Each of the cabins included an attached room with full amenities, save for Ravenclaw, which had two. The campers' quarters were much like the dormitories of Hogwarts. Fashioned into separate rooms, which wouldn't be doable if it weren't for magic, boy, and girls could not enter the opposite rooms after a set curfew of ten o'clock.

Hermione tugged her shirt over her head and shimmied out of her jeans. Kneeling to the floor, she opened her trunk. She slid Ron's quidditch jersey over her body. It hung halfway down her thigh, the material soft against breasts after she unclasped her bra, leaving it discarded in the floor. Padding across the floor, she made her way into the bathroom to brush her hair out the best she could so it wouldn't be quite as awful in the morning when she showered.

And lastly, Hermione plucked her wand from the dresser as she faced the doorway of the room that would lead to the outside. She cast a silencing charm, as she knew she was bound to call out in her sleep, and the last thing she wanted was for anyone to hear her beg an imaginary Bellatrix to stop.

Some things would never leave her, certainly not her survival skills, and looking over her shoulder. And that was why she grabbed the decorative vase from the table and levitated it in front of the door. The charm was strong enough to hold even as she slept, and if anyone opened the door, it would shatter.

Falling asleep with Crooks curled up at her feet, and her wand in her fierce grip, she would be ready for the worst.

* * *

Naturally, she knew that the majority of students who would step off of the Hogwarts Express - using the train again had been McGonagall's idea - were orphans. She knew each thing about them like the back of her hand, and she'd painstakingly scribbled notes in the margins of the reports. Dozens of pages of parchments held the finer details.

Allergies. Likes, and dislikes. What classes in Hogwarts did they like the most? What problems did she foresee for the duration of the summer?

Malfoy stood at her side, looking every bit of the thorn in her side that he was, and he bloody well knew it. She'd lost count of the insults Malfoy and Corner exchanged just on the walk to the platform. Hannah was silent, standing at the farthest end.

Before the engine could shudder, and the door could slide open, Hermione looked at each of them. "You decided to stay." She voiced, the unspoken threat clear in her voice. Don't muck it all up.

"It will be fine," Hannah told her with a weak smile, twisting a piece of light blonde hair around her finger. "You've never steered us wrong before."

It took every ounce of willpower not to snort because she certainly hadn't been saying that when Hermione insisted Harry wasn't lying. "Thank you." Hermione settled with, and the doors of the Hogwarts Express slid open.

The youngest spilt out first, and her heart clenched at the sight of Henry. His eyes were sunken in, and he was frail - clearly, he hadn't been taken care of wherever the Ministry stuck him after the war. Henry's eyes brightened when they landed on Malfoy, and he shot into his arms. There was a low, guttural oof from Malfoy when the little boy crashed into him.

Hermione couldn't hear what Malfoy murmured to the boy, and she tried not to stare when he embraced his friend's cousin.

Dennis Creevey came to stand at her side, nodding to her as he motioned to a young girl who stepped off the train. "Olivia, we'll be with Hermione." He said.

As the next children stepped off, the other three counsellors grabbing their kids, Hermione didn't notice when the sharp intake of breath. "What the fuck are you doing here?" Leanne snarled, her bag landing against the rickety platform with a thud. "Is this some kind of joke?" Her eyes were wide, and her hands curled into fists at her side.

"Considering you didn't laugh, I would assume it's not a joke," Malfoy said smoothly. "Believe me, this is the last place I wanted to be."

"You should be in Azkaban with your father," she hissed, "two of kind, the pair of you are," Leanne said flippantly. "Granger -"

"If you're going to insist that he leaves, save your breath." Michael interrupted, casting a look to Hermione that told him he wasn't happy about it either. "Hermione didn't pick him for this; he was put here."

"He needs to be put in a cage." Leanne huffed.

Hands on her hips, Hermione snapped "Enough."

Smith cast a glare her way, standing off to the side with Hannah. Another Hufflepuff, Isobel MacDougal stepped off the bottom step of the train, and her eyes shot open as she took in Malfoy. Her shock vanished just as quickly, and she made her way to stand beside Hannah.

Adelaide dragged her trunk beside her, a sour curve to her lips as she stood beside Henry and Malfoy. The blond crouched down, taking her trunk from her.

There were two Ravenclaws, a brother and sister pair. Conveniently, they were the only ones who didn't stare at Malfoy as if he were some kind of sideshow. The elder of the two, Lisa, was in Hermione's year.

"Okay," Hermione cleared her throat, her hand rubbing Dennis's shoulder. "Please follow me."

The atmosphere which enveloped them felt like the sharp end of a blade. It was a bad situation that they needed to turn around, but so far neither the Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff counsellors were much help.

Leanne had pulled Hannah away at the first opening, forcing her into their cabin, and hadn't bothered to put up a silencing charm. So when Smith screamed the obvious - that Malfoy had been a Death Eater, everyone heard it.

Exchanging a look with Malfoy, Hermione sighed and stood from the table bench. "I'll be right back." She told Michael. "If the two of you could do something so every child in the group could participate, that would be ideal. You've seen the note -" she began, but Malfoy cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"Yes, Granger, I'm aware of each child's likes, dislikes, and allergies. We won't let them die before you get back. Why don't you just let them settle in?" He remarked, and Corner said nothing, seemingly not interested in saying anything that was in agreeance with Malfoy.

Hermione glanced around the campground. Olivia Warbeck sat with Dennis Creevey, twirling her wand nimbly between her fingers, and they didn't appear to be saying much. Henry was lounging against a tree while Adelaide pulled at the grass at the base of the tree. "They've broken off into houses, Malfoy. The point of this isn't so they can separate into their own cliques."

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "For someone who claims to care about this children, you're a dense idiot, Granger. They were tossed together on a train ride,"

"They all wanted to come." She interrupted.

"Of course they did! Anything is better than sitting at home while the Wizarding World tries to put itself back together. You need to let them relax before you start tossing different personalities together."

With a roll of her eyes, Hermione conceded with a nod before making her way toward the Hufflepuff cabin. Dragging her feet up the wooden steps, she considered knocking before she barged in. Yet if Leanne couldn't be considerate enough to not put every individual on edge in the area, Hermione didn't feel she needed to offer her hospitality.

She looked back to the two male counsellors and saw that they were studiously ignoring one another. Padma had taken a seat across from Malfoy, laying her head on her forearms, and her plait running along the length of her spine. Lisa Turpin crossed one leg over the other after she'd sat down across from Corner, but there wasn't a lick of conversation between any of them.

Hermione pressed the door open, taking in the black and yellow house banner hanging on the opposing wall, and the neatly made beds that sat in the room. There were only two in the camper's side, and they were placed on the far sides of the room. "Thank Merlin, someone who will bloody understand!" Leanne snapped, throwing her hands up. "Hermione, he cannot stay here."

The frizzy-haired witch - it was even worse now, growing to two times its normal size thanks to the humidity - cast a silencing charm, waving her wand, and murmuring the charm beneath her breath. And then she sucked in a sharp breath as she turned to the infuriated girl. "Just who do you think you are?" Hermione asked with a degree of calmness she hadn't been sure she would be able to manage. "Do you think I asked Malfoy here? Do you believe that I would force his presence upon anyone here?"

"I know it was the Wizengamot, but you could change their minds! Potter could -"

"Harry is in auror training, and he doesn't have time to make sure you're comfortable. For better or for worse, Malfoy is staying for the duration of the summer. If you can't be around him, I fully understand, and I'll arrange for you to return home right now."

Leanne's face grew red, her eyes dilating in anger, and her breaths coming in angry pants. "What the fuck-"

"I assure you that I am the last one you should lose your tongue with." Hermione quipped, sliding her wand into her back pocket. "Would you like to go home?"

"What would I bloody go home to, Granger?" She screamed, leaning in toward Hermione. "Shall I camp out next to my father's grave? Would you rather I sleep in a room at St Mungo's while my mother fights for her life? One of those Death Eaters poisoned by mother, and she may never recover." Leanne flung her hands out, shoving Hermione against the wall.

The mirror hanging above the vanity fell from its fixture, crashing to the floor and shattering. The large glass shards slid across the fresh wood flooring, and if there had been a point where Smith looked angry, it was surely then. "Hermione -"

She waved Leanne off, brushing the miniscule glass shards from her shirt. "I'm not angry about that," Hermione told her. "I know why you're angry, and it's not my intention to make it mean anything less. It's just.." Hermione bit her bottom lip.

"What?" Leanne's bottom lip shook. "Oh, my God, don't you dare tell me you're going to defend him! He's a monster - what he did to Katie nearly killed her." She screeched, and Hannah took several steps back.

Hermione nodded. "It was horrible what he did, and I truly - Leanne, listen to me. Malfoy didn't poison your mother."

"Don't you think I know that?" She hissed, her fingers curling around her wand. "It doesn't make him any better than the one who did." Leanne drew a deep breath, looking anywhere that wasn't Hermione. "How can you agree with him being here?" She asked, tilting her head to the side. "Can't you tell me that?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I don't think he's the best man I've ever met in my life. Make no mistake, I think Draco Malfoy was a prick and did several things he regrets. But he gets just as much a chance to change, and fix his life as we do. I didn't fight so only our side could be happy. What did you fight in the Battle of Hogwarts for?"

Leanne fell silent. Whether she'd gotten through to her, or Hermione had finally angered her enough to stay silent, she wasn't sure. "There's a path where we can go for a walk," Hannah interjected, laying her hand on the young woman's shoulder. "Help you get out of your head."

Hermione nodded to Hannah before shutting the door behind her.

* * *

Malfoy and Corner were useless when it came to planning activities. Neither of them could agree on anything, and after the third hour of planning while the kids swam in the Great Lake - a part that had already been cleared safety wide by the Ministry -, Hermione called it quits. Or..well, truly she told them to sod off and placed them in charge of making sure children didn't drown.

Leanne was off with Hannah, walking the same path through the forest again. While Hannah should have also been watching over Isobel MacDougal, Padma had whispered in her ear that morning she would watch over the girl.

Hermione's fear was that Isobel would sink below the surface, never crying out for help since she's not used her voice in over a year. It left her at the bench alone, glaring at the scattered pieces of notebook paper. One perk of sending Malfoy away was that he couldn't comment anymore on her muggle things at the very least.

"What can I do to help?" Lisa asked, sliding into the seat across from her with a smile. "I know your teammates aren't doing all that much to help you right now." She winced, grabbing a pen and clicking the top. "You know, I can see why you prefer these. Even being raised in a partly muggle household, I still always used a quill."

"A good pen will change your life." Hermione laughed, sliding her notes to the side to show her. "Hannah is controlling Leanne for the most part, which is apparently a full-time job. Michael and Malfoy can't get along for anything, and I couldn't listen to it anymore."

"I can imagine how frustrating it must be to be forced to listen to Michael argue just for the sake of not agreeing with Draco." Lisa laughed, drawing a line down the middle of the paper. "So, what would you think about a few nighttime activities? Mostly we'll be outside during the day of course, but they might get restless at night."

Hermione tapped the cap of her pen against her bottom lip, nodding. "Did you already have something in mind?"

The smile that curved the brunette's lips was a mischevious one, one that frequently graced the Weasley twins features, and Hermione found herself leaning forward. "You're not the only one who ever went to a summer camp, Granger. I think we should make a campfire tonight, and we should take turns telling ghost stories."

"I like the way you think." Hermione grinned, pushing the paper across the table for her to scribble the suggestion into the column labelled for nighttime activities. "We should roast marshmallows, but we would have to go get them."

Lisa nodded. "Do you imagine Draco, and Michael could hold down the fort while we went to the shop?" Laughing at even her own suggestion, she continued, "I think I already know the answer to that question, but I find myself wanting to know what happens when we leave them alone. Smores, yeah?"

"I thought I'd brought everything I would need for them because I had that planned, but I was clearly wrong. There's a small shop that's near an apparition point." Hermione was already gathering her things, neatly tucking away the list they had barely started on into the folder, and sliding it into her bag. "Let's go down to the lake, and let them know we're leaving."

With the only sound the snapping of twigs as the walked over them, Hermione slung her bag over her shoulder and led the way to the Great Lake. Her only experience being when she'd been submerged for Viktor Krum's task in the Triwizard tournament, she wasn't at all keen on revisiting the dark depths. No matter how thoroughly the Ministry had gone through it. Hermione didn't like anything about it, the darkness, especially in the deepest parts where it was nearly black, or the heavy pressure that was pressed against her ears.

"Hey!" Lisa cupped her hands around her mouth, and hollered, her voice echoing against the forest, sending birds to scatter from the trees. "We're leaving! See you in a half hour. Oliver, don't go too deep!"

Her fourteen-year-old brother looked mortified as he sunk beneath the water, not offering a reply at all.

To their surprise, Malfoy was in the water, his shirt discarded on the shore, and he rested his forearms against the deck. "Where are you going?" He asked, arching an eyebrow.

Turning on her heel, Hermione didn't offer a reply. "We have to go beyond the wards." Hermione murmured, too low for anyone else to hear. "There's a spot not far from here that I can take us through." While none of the lower years could ever make it out of the wards she'd crafted, it didn't mean she wanted them to try.

"They sound like they're having a good time," Lisa said, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jumper while she followed Hermione. "Michael wasn't in the water."

"I wonder how Malfoy was convinced to get in." A barely there smile graced her lips, and she looked up the incline to see Leanne and Hannah. "If you get bored, everyone is at the lake," Hermione called out.

Leanne glared at her. "Everyone?" She sneered, her lip curled in disgust.

Ignoring her, Hermione continued on, grabbing onto Lisa's hand as she pulled them through the wards. "If we apparate to Diagon Alley we won't have to worry about not finding everything in one place." She muttered, still holding onto Lisa's hand, and praying that the tiny charm around her neck wouldn't burn while she was gone.

Even if it was so unlikely.

* * *

He didn't hate being there, not even close actually. It was just like being a prefect, he told himself, but somehow this felt more important. Even if he would never admit, Malfoy agreed with Granger. With each head that he counted every sixty seconds - he was getting rather quick at it -, he recognized that this was a broken group of children.

It was hard to consider Creevey a child. During the late night he pulled as that swot left him with file after file, he knew that the younger brother had seen his brother fall in the battle. The little Ravenclaw hadn't spoken, and he didn't know if it was a personal choice, or if her vocal cords had been hexed. It hadn't been in Granger's notes, and he didn't fancy asking her himself. Henry and Adelaide were quick to bond. The two of his house stuck to one another, and they stayed away from the other campers.

Heaving a sigh as another sixty seconds rolled around, Draco yelped as someone landed right on top of his head, knocking him into the water. The chilliness of the Great Lake rushed up to meet him, and he reaching above him to wrangle whoever had dunked him. Wrestling them grab their arms, he broke the surface, gasping for air.

One look up revealed Oliver, who was grinning sheepishly. "Sorry, Mr Malfoy. Warbeck dared me to do it." He laughed, wiping water from his face, and slicking his hair back.

"It's fine." He said. "You don't have to be so formal around me," Draco muttered, and then he was lifting Oliver off his shoulders, and tossing him back into the water. Staying close since he knew the boy couldn't swim well, he was there for Oliver to grab his forearm, and be guided back to the sturdiness of the dock. "Has anyone taught you how to swim?"

He shook his head. "My sister isn't the most patient, and I never thought about it over the summers."

Draco frowned. "That won't do. I'll teach you; come on."

* * *

 **Much of the facts are taken directly from Pottermore, and several characters have been twisted to suit my needs. There was a reviewer who wondered what Malfoy had done to Leanne Smith. If you aren't aware - I wasn't until I read it - Leanne's friend (best friend in this fic) is Katie Bell. To say she dislikes Malfoy is an understatement.**


	4. Chapter 4

**I swear that I will eventually get to updating this around every week to two weeks rather than a month. Now that I'm getting into this more and not focusing on making my word counts long, it's helped a lot!**

 **Chapter Four - in which Lisa Tupin, Draco Malfoy, and Hermione Granger are my favorite trio.**

* * *

Lisa was lovely, Hermione thought. A good head on her shoulders, driven to further her life, and her brother's in the aftermath of the war. It was something Hermione could relate to, and admire even. It didn't hurt that she seemed to have already worked her way through her prejudice if she'd had any to begin with.

Not having many female friends - she was _so_ unlike Parvati, and Lavender - throughout her years of Hogwarts, she was thrilled to share laughter as they worked their way through the muggle shop. Lisa tossed marshmallows into the trolley, her nose wrinkling when Hermione suggested they could use sticks to roast marshmallows.

"While I agree it wouldn't kill anyone, we should pick up some actual utensils for it. Just in case," she added, and the silent statement of how some wouldn't understand lingered between them.

They bought marshmallows - too many bags of it, really - chocolate bars, and graham crackers. Lisa insisted on buying a box of cinnamon crackers just because she liked them.

Her beaded bag on her hip, still charmed with the undetectable expanding charm, Hermione pulled muggle currency from it. The clerk made a joke of how she must have a lot of change in the little thing, and Lisa snorted.

Actually, Hermione had an ungodly amount of knuts that she'd claimed for herself over the summer when she cleaned out the sofa at the Burrow. "Something like that," Hermione smiled, taking the change the boy handed her, and carried half of the sacks. "Let's Apparate from where we landed."

Lisa nodded.

The two of them touched the ground just outside of the wards, surrounded by lush trees, and the earth beneath them. Twigs crunching beneath her feet, Hermione passed through the wards first, nodding to Lisa to come through after she had created the opening. "Well, no one is screaming." She mused, smirking to herself.

"They wouldn't be screaming if they drowned, so perhaps we shouldn't be so hopeful yet," Lisa replied, stumbling over a log.

Hermione caught her with a quick levitation charm, continuing down the path. "Do you think telling scary stories is silly?" she asked, finally breaking into the clearing where the cabins were housed.

Leanne sat at the furthest table, her legs neatly tucked beneath her, and her chin resting on her knuckles as she whispered with Hannah. Once she saw Hermione, she glared, letting the cold stare settle on her for several moments before turning back to the Hufflepuff counsellor.

While it wasn't unexpected it was still infuriating to see the girl. Hermione hadn't once thought since the beginning of the planning stages that she'd wish to revoke an invite. When it came to Smith and her temper, Hermione wanted to throw her out of the wards herself. She'd done worse. Marietta Edgecombe came to mind, and she pushed the thought away.

It wasn't that she regretted it, fully at least, but it _was_ a heartless thing to do. To leave the girl permanently maimed, and forced to wear bangs for the rest of her life lest she wanted to reveal the scar.

Lisa elbowed her in the ribs, nodding her head to a site just off the side of the tables. Beneath a large oak, the sun beginning to set behind them, three children played Exploding Snap. More shocking, it's two Slytherins and a Gryffindor.

Grinning ear to ear, Hermione stopped in place to watch as Olivia Warbeck thumped Henry on the back of the head, a loud, "Cheater!" echoing across the grounds.

"Merlin." Lisa snorted, muffling her laugh behind her hand. "You think that hurt?"

"I don't think he'll admit it, but would you look at them smiling?" Hermione whispered back. Adelaide set across from Olivia, clearly staying out of the way as she didn't want to be next one to be walloped.

Hermione turned to make her way to the kitchen, a small wooden building crafted by magic and recycled materials - she was still proud of that fact, thank you. Whatever question Lisa was going to ask next, the words died in her throat as a voice came from behind him. Rather to say that she shrieked, tripping over _another_ branch. "Bollocks." The witch hissed, watching as still wrapped, luckily, chocolate bars slid across the grass.

Malfoy so rarely laughed, or she hadn't heard it before, which would make more sense. There was a low chuckle as he stuck his hand out, long, pale fingers wrapping around Lisa's wrist as he pulled her to her feet. "Apologies." Malfoy bent to grab what had fallen, slipping back into the respective brown, paper bags.

The question of why he hadn't just used magic was on the tip of her tongue, but Hermione said nothing. "In the future, you probably shouldn't sneak up on others," Hermione said not unkindly as she brushed past him. She could feel a glare settled on the three of them while so spoke freely.

He arched an eyebrow. "If I didn't know better, I would think you were worried about my wellbeing, Granger." There was no animosity in his words, and there was almost, _almost_ a teasing lilt to them.

Certain it was only her overactive imagination that would have her look for something that wasn't there, she led the two of them into the kitchens. On Headmistress McGonagall's insistence, there would be house elves to help them later this summer. So she'd been expecting the topic to crop up. "Did you ban house elves from helping us this summer?" Malfoy drawled, setting the bags on an island in the middle.

Hermione stood across from him, predictably putting her hands on her hips. "Ha ha. You're incredibly funny." She rolled her eyes.

He agreed with a shrug and peered in the bag. While her back was turned and he'd done it on purpose, he peeled the wrapper back of the chocolate bar. "Is this muggle chocolate?" He asked.

"Those are for everyone." Hermione scolded.

Lisa stayed silent, casting a small healing spell on her knee where she had skinned it, and dabbed the blood.

"Then I'm allowed to eat one as well, aren't I? If they're for everyone as you say."

Hermione glared at him. "Only since you helped us carry this." She finally said.

"Despite scaring me," Lisa called. She was pointing her wand to her skinned knee, murmuring a healing charm. "Oi, Malfoy, toss me a chocolate bar."

He obliged, but only breaking off a piece of his and popping it into his mouth. Malfoy rummaged around the bag, throwing one _at_ her rather than _to_ her. "Whoops." he sniggered.

Hermione rolled her eyes. She unpacked the bags, stacking the boxes of graham crackers and the bags of marshmallows. "Do save some for the other campers."

Malfoy shrugged, smirking from behind his treat. "Counselor privileges. I have to inspect it for safety reasons first, don't I?"

"That's a shite reason. I'm eating one too." Lisa carefully unwrapped hers, and yelped when it was snatched from her hands. "What are you doing?"

Never breaking eye contact, Malfoy bit off a chunk with a grin. "Like I said, safety reasons."

Lisa stood, the groceries nearly falling as she swept past them. "I think I liked you better when you were a little prick." she hissed, flicking his ear. "Give that back," she yanked her treat back, "and this." Lisa laughed as his brows nearly shot into his hairline.

"That was mine," Malfoy grumbled.

Hermione was stunned. In all of her years in Hogwarts, not once had she seen him act playful. Obviously, there weren't many chances for her to see it even if he was. They were in opposing houses that had a long history of rivalries. Then they were on opposing sides of a war that split the Wizarding World in half. Chewing her lips, she kept her mouth shut before she could ask him what had changed. He loathed her questions; Malfoy was more likely to shut down if she brought it up.

The small moment of peace was shattered when the door slammed open, followed by a sneer. "Oliver wants you to meet him by the lake." Leanna spat, her fingers turning white as she gripped the door. "Lisa, I would be careful if I were you. Wouldn't want your only surviving family member to be left alone with a Death Eater."

His head whipped around when Lisa laughed, airy and light. She stood in place, innocently eating the chocolate she'd just nicked. "How kind of you to worry, Leanne. I don't have anything to worry about. Draco was a shite Death Eater anyway. Besides if Oli was annoying him, I would tell him the charm _I_ use to make him behave at home."

Leanne's mouth fell open. "You -"

"Why be ignorant when you could just be quiet?" Lisa cut her off, giving her a grin that was anything but polite.

Hermione couldn't cover her laugh, nor could the man in the room. While Hermione's eyes shot open, his jaw went slack at the sight of anyone defending him.

"Turpin, you don't need to -" he started.

Leanne only turned her nose up and turned away. "If you want to befriend the same sort that murdered your family, that's,"

Lisa hadn't reached for her wand once, but when she did it was to throw a hex that blasted the trim off the door. "Get out of my sight or you'll sporting boils until the new term."

There was a muttered "Barmy bitch," and the door swung shut the best it could.

Her new found friend hopped onto the island, crossing her legs. "I'll fix the door in a minute. Should you discipline me for hexing another camper?" she asked over her shoulder.

Malfoy's reply was swift, his eyes bright with amusement. "If you _even_ think of giving her one of those little disciplinary cards you made, I swear, Granger."

Hermione leaned on the counter, pulling a bar of chocolate for herself. "I'm not planning to. It's not quite self-defense, but Leanne had it coming. She's lucky Lisa missed."

"Oh, I didn't miss." Lisa laughed. "Do you know why Oliver wants to meet you at the lake?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "I offered to teach him how to swim, not that I expected him to take it. It's what we were working on, but his calf cramped up and I told him to take a break. I told him we could start again whenever."

Lisa's features softened. "You're kind of sweet, you know that?"

Hermione snorted.

Pink rose in his cheeks, and he dipped his head to hide it. Malfoy's hand darted out, snatching half of Hermione's chocolate. "Safety," he cited with a smirk. "I'm not always a prat," Malfoy said.

"Seeing is believing," Hermione said softly.

"Yeah," he muttered, "but don't tell anyone."

Focusing on the countertop in front of her, no one could see her eyes widen. He was almost playful, and she wondered how much of their hatred was forced by his upbringing. Hermione pushed the thoughts away, knowing that she shouldn't analyze him. Still, his light-hearted demeanour - save for Leanne bursting into the kitchen - and soft-spoken humour left her feeling as if there was something there.

Not quite friends, but far from enemies, Hermione reasoned as she leaned forward and took her chocolate back.

* * *

Night fell, thousands of stars becoming visible in the sky and Hermione froze in place on the outskirts of the lake. Malfoy and Oliver had left a half hour prior, and following the owl delivery, she'd told Lisa she would meet them back at the camp.

There wasn't much time to take for herself, and she knew it was silly for the envelope in her hands to feel like such a heavy weight. Her name was scrawled across the front in Ron's clumsy handwriting. Lowering to the end of the dock, she pulled her shoes off and set them beside her. The surface of the water was inky beneath the darkness and cold against her toes.

She blew out a breath, opening the letter, her heart immediately falling.

 _Dear Hermione,_

 _I hope all is well for the summer camp. Auror training is going well._

 _Ron._

She let the parchment slip from her fingers and fall into the murky depths before she sighed and summoned it back to her grasp. Not that she cared about keeping the pathetic note. She could just leave trash in the lake either.

Hermione crumpled the note before hanging her head. One sentence. That was it. She'd received Harry's letter the day before, a full page of questions for her about the camp and another detailing their training. Harry, at least, thought to tell her he missed her and was worried about how her summer was going. He commented how they often spent summers apart, but this was after the war.

Everything was different.

The thought of whether or not she should have broken things off before leaving the Burrow was still lingering. As it was, even before they went separate ways, Ron and Hermione didn't talk. They might have snogged, but she admitted it was the need for human contact more than anything else. She wanted to feel alive, and being wanted..that was enough for a time.

She grumbled under her breath, sliding her sandals back on as she made her way up the dock. If this was any indication of how their correspondence would be for the summer months, she knew they would never get through a three-year auror training. It wouldn't matter if he had reprieves to visit.

The parchment was balled up in her hand as she hurried to the camp.

Everyone was already seated. Leanne and Hannah were still huddled in their own small clique. Michael sat to the right of them. The campers were mostly sorted by houses, but Olivia had sandwiched herself between Adelaide and Henry.

Hermione took a seat beside Lisa. Malfoy sat on the other side of the Ravenclaw, and Oliver looked pleased to talk to Malfoy about swimming techniques.

"How was - okay, that tells me how that went," Lisa said, watching the parchment leave Hermione's hand and catch fire in the crackling flames.

Hermione only nodded, biting her lip. "I'll tell you later." She wasn't sure she would, not with how embarrassed she was to be wrong about giving the relationship a go. Hermione gave a small smile as she watched the younger kids lean forward and roast their marshmallows, their chocolate and graham crackers already in front of them. "Thank you for getting them started."

Lisa shook her head. "Thank Malfoy."

"Don't thank me." he rumbled from the other side of her.

"So humble." Padma laughed, catching Hermione's eye from across the fire. "These are delicious though. We should do this again."

Unfortunately, it also explained why Leanne, and Hannah, weren't participating. Hermione frowned. She would need to talk to Hannah soon. Even if her friend wanted to be a negative influence, it didn't mean she could do the same.

"Alright," Michael clapped his hands, frowning as they stuck together from the melted marshmallows. "Scary stories, I'll start."

Lisa leaned her head on Hermione's shoulder. "I can't wait for Oli to say he's not scared and then wet his bed tonight."

Hermione sniggered, hands flying up to muffle her laughter. "Merlin, you're terrible."

The embers popped and crackled while Michael trained his features. "This is the story about the Girl Who Stood on a Grave." he began, leaning forward on his crossed legs. "One night, there was a little Gryffindor, rash and stupidly brave, and three other students, one from each house," Hermione wanted to snort at his forced display of house unity, but it was a start. "The Hufflepuff began to tell the legend of a witch that had been buried in the graveyard, presumably burned at the stake by muggles."

She winced, but leaned forward curiously anyway, reaching out to take a smore from Lisa.

"They said if you stood on her grave at midnight, she would _grab,_ " his hand shot out, gripping Padma and a wicked grin crossed his face with she shrieked, "your ankle and drag you through the earth, while you clawed at the dirt to free yourself, all the way to hell.

"I would never go near that graveyard after dark, the Ravenclaw said. He was the most likely to use self-preservation of the bunch."

 _Merlin, he's laying it on thick._

"You're all a bunch of morons, the Gryffindor laughed. It's just a silly superstition, I can't believe you'd take it seriously." Michael continued, his voice high pitched and sounded too much like an imitation of her.

Malfoy picked up on it. "That sounds a lot like you, Granger."

She bristled, quietly eating.

"The Slytherin turned to her and sneered 'It's different when you're safe and warm in your own home. I think you'd have a different opinion if you went to the graveyard.' To which she replied," Godric help her if she truly did ever sound that haughty. "'It wouldn't make a difference! I'll do it right now!'"

Her stomach sank. Surely...the story was going nowhere good. She wasn't scared of course. Only the younger ones were frightened.

"The Slytherin tells her how she'll have to prove she did it by sticking a knife in the grave and she marches to the graveyard, the others trailing behind them. Of course, they wait at the entrance, not wanting the old witch to catch them." Michael took a deep, _unneeded_ breath. "The Gryffindor carried on through the gates, clutching the knife close to her chest, whispering," his voice dropped, "'there's nothing to be afraid of.' She came upon the headstone, and crouched on top of the grave, muttering that she wasn't afraid, not at all.

"She'd been trembling since passing the iron gates, and there was a creaking that bellowed around her, echoing against the headstones. Desperate to hurry home, the Gryffindor stabbed the knife into the grave and turned to leave. Chuckling to herself, she said 'Take that, you old witch.' But as she turned to leave, she was caught!"

Isobel whimpered, hiding her face in her hands. Creevey reached out to rub her shoulder.

Michael's high pitched scream pierced the air. "'Help!' She cries out but she knows no one is coming. They knew the legend and they tried to warn her.

"In the morning, the three remaining go to check her, worried they'll find nothing as proof of her demise. The girl had mistakenly stabbed the knife through her dress. Believing the witch had caught her, she collapsed and died of fright."

Hermione exhaled, wringing her shaking fingers. That wasn't so bad. "Well, that wasn't scary at all." she murmured.

Malfoy glanced at her, a wide smirk plastered to his face. "You weren't scared at all?"

With everyone watching her, she scoffed. "Of course not. It was just a legend."

Bony fingers grabbed her sides, squeezing roughly as a low "Boo!" was muttered in her ear.

Hermione screamed, lunging into Lisa and throwing her arms around her neck. The two fell into Malfoy, whose only response was to not move. Hermione's head knocked against hers.

"Watch that bushy head of yours, Granger," he grumbled. "Your hair might suffocate me."

Hermione glanced, her arms still tightly wound around Lisa's neck, to see Adelaide grinning in the darkness.

The fire illuminated her features, the embers sparking in front of her shadowed stare. "Still think it's not scary?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Maybe..a little," she admitted.

Malfoy snorted. "I could do better."

Hermione didn't let anyone see how she clutched Lisa's hand.

* * *

She wasn't asleep when a scream floated through the camp.

Hermione grabbed her wand, clutching it tightly as she threw the blankets off of the bed, and Crooks as well. Not bothering with prosperity, she didn't stop to tug her shorts up her legs.

Cool air met her as she wrenched her door open and jumped down the three stairs.

"Granger," Malfoy hissed, nodding his head to the end of the cabins. "Be quiet. I think Padma has already taken care of it." His hard stare dropped to her bare legs. "Were you planning to fight partially nude?" he laughed.

Her face flushed, her blush crawling down her neck. "I just reacted." Hermione shrugged.

Creeping up behind him, she leaned out from their point to see MacDougal on her hands and knees in the dirt. She was dry heaving while Padma held her hair back. "Shh, it's okay. You're safe."

Malfoy cleared his throat. "I don't know if it was the scary stories, or what."

She shook her head, her thoughts revisiting a small file that sat on her dresser. "It's not the stories. You didn't cause this."

They stood silently, watching from their hiding place as the child sobbed, her mouth forming words that wouldn't come out.

"Do you think she'll ever talk again?" he asked.

She didn't know. "I hope so." Hermione murmured.

* * *

 **Due the the delay in updates, I'm going to post a reminder right here. It was implied, but Isobel doesn't speak. Hermione doesn't know if it's her choice to remain mute, or if it was caused by a curse.**

 **I hope you'll let me know what you think. I will *hopefully* see you in a week or so with a new installment.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi, everyone! I've written quite a bit in the last few days. While I'm not updating this every week like I would prefer, I'm determined to get an update in every month. The plot starts rolling in this chapter, and I feel like I've gotten a real handle on it. I hope you'll enjoy it, and I hope to bring an update soon.**

 **Thank you to my friend and MykEsprit for looking this over from a reader's standpoint. As always, all mistakes are my own. I currently do not have a beta for this project because I have so many ongoing.**

* * *

To be perfectly candid, Hermione had been through a gross amount of shite in the last seven years. From an evil Dark Lord determined to rise again, and even more determined to murder her best friend each consecutive year, to storming off into battle as the equivalent of a child soldier, to losing her parents of her own volition —

It's a _little_ easy to lose her temper, especially when it's been building since the first day of summer.

And it involved someone who's name begins in 'L' and ends with 'eanne'.

Hermione Granger woke the entire fucking camp when she stumbled outside. She'd been expected to bask in the early morning sunlight and all of that rot. It was a beautiful world, wasn't it? A beautiful day. The sun was shining, the sky was clear, a perfect day for the children to finally organize their flying competition.

It was supposed to be her day for everything to go right, but she was stuck there, waving her hands around like a godforsaken mental patient.

Deciding to put wit before wand, Hermione silently had crept up behind Leanne. Her arms were folded across her chest, a very 'no nonsense' stance that she'd learned from the one and only Molly Weasley. "Please, _please_ for the sake of my good mood, tell me that you are not cursing Malfoy's broom."

Leanne's head snapped up. A cruel and mocking smile curved her lips. "I'm definitely not cursing Malfoy's broom. A curse would be too good for him. He should really be —"

While silencing charms didn't hurt, not by any stretch of comparison, Hermione weaved the charm and a hex together. She found her patience was waning and there was no longer time or room for this sort of behavior. "Leanne," Hermione began softly. Anyone who knew her well would have known that it was not kindness that coloured her tone. "I'm going to send you home if you don't stop."

Of course, the girl couldn't respond. It was satisfying to see her mouth open and shut like a befuddled fish that had just been dragged from the Great Lake.

"What in the fuck is going on?" A door slammed open. "For fuck's sake, some of us are trying to sleep!" Malfoy ceased his yelling as he took in the sight before her. "Not that I would usually complain, but would the loud crash I just heard have anything to do with this?" He waved a pale hand, his eyes widening at the sight.

Another door opened, this time it was Padma, her shirt hanging to her knees as she rubbed her eyes. Her gaze flicked to the table that had been overturned.

Hermione didn't look the least bit sheepish for overdoing the hex. Still, there was the matter that she was the head of the entire project, and she was meant to be an example. Bollocks. "Up," she snapped her fingers, and Leanne begrudgingly climbed to her feet. "I've had enough of this. Unless you'd like to go home, I suggest you make an apology."

The silencing charm fell, but Leanne rubbed the back of her head where she'd walloped it against the ground from the blow back. "I'm sorry." she grumbled, facing Hermione and putting her hands up.

Mock surrender. How adorable. Hermione could have laughed in her face, but that would be an utterly _terrible_ thing to do. Instead, she grinned wickedly as she shook her head. "You misunderstand. It's not _me_ ," her smile didn't slip, which probably made her look mental, but nevermind that, "that you need to apologize."

Leanne's head whipped towards Malfoy, who was still bewildered by the morning's turn of events. Before he could get a word in edgewise, she shrieked, "Absolutely not!"

Hermione shrugged. "It truly makes little difference to me, Smith. You can merrily hop back onto the Hogwarts Express for all I care. You've been nothing but nasty since you arrived, and honestly, a despicable excuse of a person. You need to let go." Hermione's features softened as she took pity. "I know it's difficult, but not cursing his broom would be a start."

"A dip in the lake wouldn't hurt him!" Leanne hissed.

Malfoy jogged down his steps, summoning his wand without a word, and with his wand still tucked away. "I don't have a need for a half-arsed apology."

Leanne levelled him with a sharp glare, but Hermione didn't notice how her bottom lip quivered. "I've done nothing wrong."

Quietly, there was a soft "Oh, I'm not missing this for the world. Keep Oliver inside, would you?" Behind them, Lisa was leaning against the railing of the Ravenclaw cabin, Padma right at her side.

"Clearly," Draco scoffed, giving his broom a once over. "If you've done nothing wrong, ride the broom."

Her eyes widened just barely. "No, thank you."

He arched a brow. "You say you've done nothing wrong. If that's the case, hop on this broom. I'll even make it worth your while. If nothing happens, you get one free shot at me. No unforgivables, of course." Malfoy smirked, but the humour twisting his lips did not meet his eyes.

"Pity," Leanne remarked. "I think I'll pass."

"Oh? That's just as good as admitting you've lied, but I understand wanting to save face. You're not that good at it, however." he said flatly. Malfoy turned to Hermione. "I'll remove the curses in my own room."

"Oh, Merlin!" Padma shouted.

Before Malfoy or Hermione could react, the broom had been torn from his grip and Leanne Smith was mounted - quite unwillingly - and was zipping through the air.

He choked on a laugh. "Whoever did that, ten points for ingenuity for the house cup we've yet to set up!" Malfoy whirled to see Lisa, twirling her wand with a satisfied look on her face. "Brilliant."

Hermione swatted his chest. "Focus, Malfoy. She's about to go into the lake."

He exhaled heavily. "Fine, fine. Let's fish her out of the bloody lake before the Giant Squid eats her, which to be clear, would not upset me."

She glared as they stomped off toward the shoreline, Padma and Lisa sniggering as they followed. "Is it worth a Ministry inquiry? Because that's exactly what would happen."

"Do you normally suck the fun out of everything?" he fired back.

"Malfoy?" she asked quietly, emerging from the tree line to see that the Hufflepuff camper was still tearing across the sky.

Leanne was forced into unwanted tricks, rolls, and dives. There was a lot of screaming.

"I see your lips twitching," Malfoy commented. "It won't kill you to laugh, Granger."

Against her better judgment, she grinned. "And there she goes," Hermione sighed as Leanne was finally released from the broom and she fell in from just feet above the water. "You know, she's likely to attempt to knock you off your broom later."

He waved off the prospect. "Let her."

Hermione would have liked to ask if it was his minor attempts to make up for his past mistakes, an ill-planned penance. And she would have if Leanne had not climbed out of the water.

"This is war," she muttered as her teeth chattered while she stalked past them all.

"It wasn't me who put you on that broom, but I suppose." Malfoy drawled. "Granger, a word?"

With one last look, Lisa nodded and left them.

"What is it?" Hermione asked. She leaned against a tree.

Malfoy looked her over. "Your pyjamas are ridiculous."

She snorted. "I know that's not why you asked me to stay behind."

He nodded, looking up into the trees to be sure the others were out of earshot. "You need to let Leanne have her feud with me. I don't like knowing the girl might slit my throat in my sleep, but I could have killed her friend. Unless she starting firing the killing curse at me - in which case, please stop her - leave her to me."

Her mouth opened and closed several times before she could say anything. "You can't be serious. She's dangerous with that mentality."

He held up a hand, and he looked as if he might just silence her so he could be done with it. "Need I remind you how dangerous I was with my mentality? Even if I think it's tosh now, I let Death Eaters into Hogwarts, and I meant to kill the headmaster."

She knew all of that already, but...the war was over and the world was supposed to heal. That's how this was meant to work, but how naive could she be? "You weren't, you aren't —" Hermione stared at her feet. "I can't stand off to the side while she targets you."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "I knew you would say that, but the truth of the matter is that you're likely to lose funding if you kicked her out. All it would take is one word of how she had to be around a Death Eater—"

"—former Death Eater," she ground out.

"—and the Wizengamot would take her side. They would manufacture a reason to harass me, and the would most likely shut this entire thing down. We can't let that happen."

Hermione stared at him, confusion clouding her features. "What?"

His cheeks were dusted with pink, and he stared right over her head. "If you tell anyone that I actually give a damn, I will absolutely ignore it. Adelaide and Henry are excited to wake up each day now. I heard them talking last night about what Hogwarts was like last year, about how they were so excited to return now if the term was anything like this summer. If Smith has a problem with me, she can hex me, curse me, or strike me in the face, but she will not muck this up for them."

Hermione was dumbfounded. Her heart was pounding in her chest and if they weren't so volatile toward the other, she had the inkling she could have hugged him. "You care."

"Of course I fucking care. Even with that bint wanting to make my life hell, she's a fly to me. I've—" he cut himself off. "I like it here, alright?"

Hermione nodded. "I understand."

"Then leave things be."

She didn't like it one bit, but she supposed she didn't have to. "You don't have to pretend you hate it here." Hermione murmured as they started towards the camp. "Can I ask why you enjoy it?"

There was a tick in his jaw as he didn't meet her eye. "I'd prefer you didn't, but there is no stopping you once you're curious. You're a part of it, though you're endlessly fucking Gryffindor and hopeful, but you're not as bad as I would have thought. Lisa. Her younger brother who likes me for reasons I cannot fathom. Henry and Adelaide are always looking to include me; they think I don't appreciate it, but I do. Padma has been trying to relate with me."

She glanced up, her lips parted. It was quite a list, and he'd only mentioned her first because she was here and naturally the first thing to rattle off, and it didn't _matter_. "Padma? How so?"

His shoulders deflated. "Parvati was murdered by Greyback."

Oh, _oh._ "I'm sorry I brought it up." She should have made the connection. Between the two of them, it was the only thing they could have in common. Narcissa Malfoy had been torn to shreds like Padma's twin. "She's trying to comfort you then? That's lovely."

He didn't truly laugh, but he breathed hard out of his nose. "Sure, we'll go with that. She's elbowing her way into my life no matter how much I try to avoid her."

Hermione laughed. "I see. Well, I'm glad you're enjoying the summer then."

* * *

While she helped plan the flying competition with Lisa, Hermione had no intentions of joining. Hermione sat securely on the ground, her back against the tree as she watched the others summon their brooms.

Out of all of them, it was only the Slytherin campers and Isobel who stayed with her. She caught the look on Malfoy's face, but he said nothing.

Harry and Ron had sent her another letter, one from each. Harry's was, again, more detailed. He told her about Auror training, about how being the Chosen One wasn't going to be enough this time and she should be proud that he couldn't skirt by.

She got a laugh out of that. As if Harry was riding the coattails of his victory against Voldemort. She was certain half of the Senior Aurors wanted him out. They expected a cocky kid, which wasn't _completely_ Harry. That bill fit Ron, and Harry went on to explain how Ron had started no less than three fights with their trainers.

She sighed. Ron told her nearly nothing in his note, one that beat out his previous for word count. She felt pathetic to have counted. He told her he missed her and hope the camp was going well.

Hermione had gotten the sense before leaving that Ron wasn't interested in her project really, and she should have never just accepted that. It was only the beginning of things they would disagree on.

She penned a reply to both before staring up into the sky.

Malfoy was the fastest, and Oliver was right on his heels, attempting to perform all of the tricks the counsellor laid out. A few of which she had never seen before. A smile pulled at the edge of her lips. It was a miracle Leanne hadn't continued on with the rivalry, but she was hovering behind Hannah.

"Why don't the two of you join?" Hermione asked.

Henry and Adelaide exchanged a look. Isobel glanced up, giving a weak smile, almost as if she was grateful Hermione hadn't posed the question to her.

"The Carrows knocked me off my broom during my first lesson," Adelaide said. "I said I didn't understand the point of the war, and that there was no reason for it. Madam Hooch was dismissed from the headmaster's office when she argued that it was 'absurd'."

The fucking Carrows.

"Flying can be fun," Hermione told them, her fingers twitching at her side. "You stare at them as if you want to do it again." She waved to Michael as he landed in front of them. "Michael could take you up, couldn't you?"

Michael nodded.

The young Slytherin girl snorted. "I know how to fly. Getting off the ground is the hard part. I'll get in the air if you do. Michael can take _you_."

Hermione blanched but nodded. "Alright then." She'd had enough flying to last her a lifetime, but grabbed Michael's hand and let him pull her up. "Isobel," she called quietly, "would you mind watching my things?"

She thought about asking her if she'd like to join them, but she worried about pressuring the mute girl. Isobel shot her a bright smile and a thumbs up.

"Up you go, Hermione," Michael said, letting her slide onto the broom in front of him. "Don't sit so rigid. You're not going to fall."

She was probably going to fall, knowing her luck, but it was for the kids. She could regrow a broken bone pretty quickly with skilled healers.

Michael yelled out for the rest of them, who had only been milling about until the competition started. "Everyone to the edge of the tree line!" he shouted.

Hermione was squirming on the broom, completely out of her comfort zone. She glanced at Malfoy from her perch, noting how his brows shot up.

"Alright," Michael bellowed, "we're going to race from here to the other side of the lake, and back. No cheating. We don't need anyone falling into the lake." The last bit was pointed out with a chuckle. "One - two - three - go!"

He took off with a sickening lurch that sent Hermione into Michael's chest. "Oh, Merlin," she squeaked. At first, they were ahead of everyone else. The younger years moved slower and she turned to face Michael as they passed over the middle of the lake. "Why are you letting children fly over the lake. If they fall,"

He tucked a curl behind her ear. "Calm down. Malfoy is ready to catch them, as am I and Hannah. Lisa knows her way around a broomstick and Padma isn't the best, but she'd be able to cast a cushioning charm before one of them fell in."

It didn't do much to calm her nerves at all. "Right, okay," she replied, not believing him one bit.

They were in the middle of the lake on the return trip with Malfoy far ahead of the rest of them when Hermione lost her balance after Oliver nearly slammed into them.

"Fuck, Hermione, stop moving!" Michael shouted, trying to steady her by settling a hand on her waist.

It did nothing. She was already falling, flipping upside down over and over again as she dropped like a stone toward the lake.

* * *

He moved faster than Corner could. At the sound of a scream he knew inside and out for reasons he didn't like to acknowledge, Malfoy dove toward the surface. From where he was, still forty feet above her, he could see that she was managing to cast cushioning charms for when she inevitably hit the water.

She was a bright witch. The charms would stop her from breaking any bones when she hit, but there was the matter of worrying how it might not be enough. And it was ridiculous because he knew who she was but —

Draco pulled his wand from his sleeve. " _Arresto Momentum!"_ By a stroke of luck for casting just before she could hit the water, and swift wand work, he slowed her fall to just above the water as he swooped down to grab her hand and pull her onto the broom, her body facing his. "Are you alright?"

Her eyes reminded him of firewhiskey up close. They were brown from afar, but this close, they resembled amber, and at the moment they were wide with fear. Granger nodded. "'M fine," she mumbled. "I told him I was going to fall!"

"Corner isn't great with a broom. Listen, I intended to win, still do actually. So I suggest you turn around."

"What?" Granger stammered, her features pinching in confusion. It was almost endearing.

He hissed under his breath, "Fuck. Corner is almost to the end."

"Then you can't,"

"I'll take that bet, Granger."

Water flew up beneath them as he took off,and her body was pushed flush against his by the momentum. A squeak tore from her pale mouth and she glared up at him. "Malfoy!"

"Shush, princess. Stop wiggling or you'll fall off again. This time you'll need to wait before I come back and save your arse."

Aware that he was her ticket back to solid ground, all she offered was a quiet, "Hmph." Her pride was beat out as she latched onto him, scared to fall again. Her fingers dug onto his chest as she clung to him, fisting his jumper in her tight grip.

Taking pity of her, he wrapped an arm around her waist as he flew faster. The momentum had her pressed against his.

Corner slowed down as they caught up with him. Jealousy wasn't a great look on him, but the hesitation worked in Draco's favour.

As he touched down, Granger hadn't let go of him yet. She blinked, glancing around before she jumped off of the broom and laid on the ground. "I am _never_ doing that again."

"That was wicked!" Henry shouted from over his head, grinning down at them. "Miss Granger, can we do it again?"

"Leave me out of it." she groaned, dragging her hands down her face. "I don't know how you can enjoy that."

Malfoy smirked, still hovering above the ground. "Well, if a simpering idiot hadn't been the one to take you into the air, you'd probably understand."

* * *

After everyone had gone to bed that night, Hermione couldn't fight off a feeling that twisted her stomach. She didn't believe gut feelings typically, but even as she rolled over in bed to turn in for the night, it wouldn't go away.

Softly, she padded across her room, removing the pot from over the door for her makeshift security. No one was out, and she went unseen as she rapped her knuckles against his door quietly.

Malfoy opened his door, and she could smell the booze. He sighed, letting the door swing wide open and allowed her inside. "I don't want to have a heart to heart with you. Just because I saved you from an unsavoury dip in the Great Lake does not mean we are the best of friends."

She placed her hands on her hips. "You're pissed."

He nodded, falling to sit at the edge of his bed. "Five points to Gryffindor for a quick deduction. Would you like a drink?"

"I'll pass."

"Really? I'm far more likely to talk to you about it if you do. You can't be sober if I'm not. It's an unfair playing field."

She huffed. "Fine, give me the bloody bottle." Hermione held her hand out, waiting for the cool glass of the bottle to meet her outstretched hand. "Can I sit?"

"Why not?" he muttered, scooting over to give her room.

She spluttered as the booze burned down her throat, and she glared at the bottle itself. "This is terrible."

"Bet it makes you forget about anything else on your mind."

"Until later when you run out and you're drunk while depressed." Hermione pointed out.

"Thank you so much for telling me that. Wow, I never knew that drinking couldn't solve all of my problems! Who knew. You've cured me, Granger."

She'd have liked to smack the look off of his face. "You're a git." Hermione took another drink if only to make him a bit more comfortable, but she was aware of how she couldn't handle her firewhiskey. "What's wrong?"

Malfoy brought the bottle to his lips. "I can't stop thinking about the war. Padma wanted to talk after dinner again. I told her to sod off. If I wanted to talk about my mother, I would. But you already knew all about it, don't you?"

Hermione swallowed. "I was handed a file when I was told you would be coming. I didn't read it all because it wasn't my business, but I know enough. You can burn the file if you like."

"The Ministry would question it."

She shrugged. "I lost it then. They're not going to question me over a file when an Order of Merlin is hanging over my head."

"Father petrified me when Greyback moved in on my mother." he murmured, not looking up at her. He hung his head, the bottle gripped tightly in his hand, settled against his bouncing knee. "She didn't move away. She knew it was coming, and he tore her apart. He planned to rape her; he said he wanted to hear her screams while he thrust his cock in her and bred her like a whore made for the slaughter."

Hermione sucked in a breath. Her hand twitched toward his. "I'm incredibly sorry."

He nodded. "Mother didn't die from the wounds he inflicted. Greyback preferred to play with his food."

"I know," she whispered. And she did. Fenrir Greyback would leave the most vital parts for last.

"She bit her tongue off. I wonder if I'll ever forget her screams. I doubt it. I never forget yours."

Hermione froze beside him. "Malfoy, you're extremely drunk and I don't want you to say anything you'll regret."

He shook his head. "This is fine. I should have done more."

She didn't agree, but it was still so raw, and she couldn't bear to discuss it so openly. "I don't want to talk about it."

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine, really." she murmured. "Is it just your mother that's on your mind?"

Malfoy hesitated as he brought the bottle away from his lips. "During my seventh year, on the Christmas holiday, I had to torture Peter Pettigrew."

She stared at him, her breathing shallow. "What?"

"Voldemort," he still shuddered as he said the name, "sensed his loyalty slipping. I was ordered to issue a _gentle_ reminder of where his best interests lied. Filthy fucking traitor on all fronts, that man was."

Hermione was at a loss. "Does anyone know? It was never mentioned in the trial."

He was silent, and she had her answer.

"I'm not going to repeat it. Your secret is safe with me. He was a horrible man, and I shouldn't let that excuse your actions."

He tapped his foot against the wooden floor. "I don't expect you to keep my secrets."

"Well, I am."

"A terrible idea, really." he snorted.

Her head felt a bit fuzzy as she looked at him. "Are you always like this? It's jarring how playful you can be." Hermione nudged him in the ribs before she could think about it.

"It's the firewhiskey," he replied. "You've learned enough about me tonight. Off you god, Granger. You're already starting to slump over on me."

True enough, she was gradually beginning to lean on him. Her cheeks flushed and she apologized. "Malfoy?"

He towered over her as he led her toward the door. "What is it?"

She took another glance around the room, the sparseness of it. Like hers, it was only a bed and a dresser. "It goes without saying that you shouldn't let your drinking affect the children, but that's not what I want to say. If you're...if you feel like drinking away your problems, and you don't completely loathe my company, I'm next door. Or even get Padma if you prefer, but you shouldn't be alone. You don't have to be."

Malfoy chuckled as she stepped out, his hand braced against the door trim as he leaned over her. "Padma talks too fucking much. I'll get you if I need you, alright? You can bring the firewhiskey next time. Or Butterbeer if you prefer. You look like you're going to blow over."

"I'm fine!" she insisted, stomping her foot. It was a childish move and she knew it and she nearly slipped right down his steps. "Okay," she spoke of his laughter. "If you need anything, yeah?"

He nodded, the smallest of smiles curving his lips. "Yeah."

Hermione ducked back into her cabin, unaware that the camp was no longer as empty as it had been when she'd first gone to Malfoy.

* * *

 **It would make me so, so happy if you would please** _ **review.**_ **:)**


	6. Chapter 6

WHATTTT. I updated within a week! I am overjoyed! This story is finally becoming fun to write, and I'm really enjoying it. This story will probably be 18 or 19 chapters in total, and I'm super glad I went ahead and planned them all last summer.

As always, I am operating without a beta here. Any and all mistakes belong to me alone, and I will be grateful if you notice anything glaring and mention it to me. But if you could PM it to me, that would be my preference.

* * *

Hermione wasn't a stranger to felled hopes, and expectations.

And she'd been expecting this one since Ron's last two letters. She sat at the edge of the dock, her toes skimming the water, and it felt as if she'd found herself in that exact same spot too many times already. She ripped the seal from the closed letter, one that had been delivered by a tawny owl that nipped her fingers and glared at her when she refused to give it a treat.

Malfoy had chuckled under his breath at breakfast as she retorted to the bird that she couldn't just reward bad behavior.

She'd known as she whispered to Lisa that she would be at the lake around dinner time, having put off reading the letter for the duration of the day, what was inside the missive. Leaving everyone in the company of the three other counsellors, Hermione had meandered down to the lake, kicking stones as she went with far more force than necessary.

The letter was heavier than the others, and it was irritating that the one he wrote the most for, was the one where he ended things completely. Night was falling around her, the sun meeting the surface of the lake, and she heaved a slow breath before unfolding the parchment.

The words didn't matter, not really. It was a long winded apology for not ending their relationship before the parted ways. She was pretty sure he had left the hope still burning so he wouldn't have to face her when he said 'It's just not working, Hermione.' And it stung like a badly cast hex.

Knowing it was coming didn't soften the blow one tiny bit.

Hot tears were slipping down her cheeks before she realized she was crying at all, and Hermione balled the parchment up in her hands. Why should he hold any sort of power over her at all? They had given it a chance, and she believed they'd owed it to themselves lest they wonder what could have been later in life.

She didn't notice footsteps sounding behind her. In her defense, they were light against the boards of the dock.

"Granger?" he asked hesitantly, softly, and she froze in place.

Hermione incinerated the letter without her wand, without so much as a word before she looked over her shoulder. "Is something wrong? Do you need me for something?" she replied, far harsher than what was considered polite for someone she thought she could possibly get along with now. "I'm sorry. I'm just—"

"It's fine," he said, his tone clipped. Great, she'd fucked the semblance of peace they had going. "It's not my business, but for what it's worth, you deserve a hell of a lot better than Weasley."

She could see her eyes widen in the reflection of the water. "I—thank you, I think."

He snorted, shoving his hands in his pockets. "He's a prick if you ask me, but it's not as if I know him. If he's willing to break things off through a letter, he's a coward. Lisa didn't tell me what was going on, but I recognized that something was off with you all day."

Hermione hiccuped, wiping her eyes. Merlin, being dumped was bad enough, but to be caught crying Malfoy was even worse. "So you came to check on me? Careful there, Malfoy. I might think you actually care about me."

"You talked me through a bad night, and it was pleasant to know that someone gave a damn. I don't like owing people, and I thought you needed the night to yourself. I'm shite for comfort, Granger, but I was a prefect, and Head Boy, albeit a terrible one. Take the night off."

She craned her head back, staring up at the dark look on his face. "I can't leave you to man the camp with Michael and Hannah. The three of you will rip each other apart."

He rolled his eyes. "Abbott isn't going to do anything that Leanne doesn't whisper in her ear, which is ridiculous and eventually should be nipped in the bud. The Ravenclaw is a ponce, but I can get along with him for a few hours."

She nibbled her lip. Her hands slid against the dock as she braced herself against the surface, a splinter sliding right in between her skin and her nail. "Ow!" Hermione hissed, plucking it immediately. "You're sure?"

He nodded. "I'll make sure your precious lions and the rest of the litter are safe. I'm serious. I don't want to see you doing any sort of work. There's a bottle of Firewhiskey in your room if you'd like it."

"Okay — how did you get past my wards?" Her eyes narrowed.

He smirked. "Your wards on your cabin are shit. It's like a first year did them."

Hermione scowled. "Liar. I know they're strong enough to hold."

"You're right." he shrugged. "I summoned a house elf from Hogwarts to leave it in the cabin. There's a Sober Up potion on the nightstand." He turned away and left without another word.

Hermione wasn't sure what to say. Malfoy had reassured her, in a backhanded way, over her breakup. And he had attempted to console her by leaving booze to erase her problems.

Which wasn't what would happen, but she wouldn't think about it that night either.

* * *

It started as a loud conversation over breakfast.

Dennis and Olivia argued over the last ration of bacon, and she won out after leaning forward, batting her eyelashes before snatching it right out of his hand. "That's not fair!" Dennis shouted, his cheeks coloring.

Interesting, Hermione thought. A bit strange with the one school year difference, but clearly a minor crush had formed since the beginning of summer. She smiled to herself as she chewed her food, washing it down with water.

"Hermione?" Oliver asked, balancing his plate on his knee as he sat in the dirt. "I don't know what you have planned today, but can I make a request?"

She nodded, raising her napkin to her mouth as she swallowed. "Sure, what is it?"

"How do you cast a Patronus?"

It got the attention of everyone in the camp, and she was gobsmacked. "I'm not sure I could teach you." she said.

Michael laughed, stabbing his fork into his plate. "Are you kidding? Of course you could teach them. We were both in Dumbledore's Army. I'm sure we could manage it. And what better activity than one so hands on?"

Oliver's face lit up. "Could we see yours?" he asked Hermione.

She gave a tight smile, not that sure she could manage the spell after the night she'd had. Her head was still fuzzy from the lingering haze that was half a bottle of Firewhiskey. The Sober Up potion was shit in comparison. The sun fucking hurt. Her limbs ached, and she wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed. "Sure." she croaked.

Malfoy leaned over from his spot beside her, whispering in her ear, "You're hungover, aren't you?"

She glared at him. "Did a fucking first year brew that potion?" Hermione hissed under her breath.

He chuckled. "No, because it wasn't a Sober Up potion at all. It was one for the common cold, little daft witch."

Hermione gaped at him, rearing back and punching him in the shoulder while he sniggered. "You're a prat, Malfoy!" Her outburst caught the attention of everyone, and she only turned her nose up before continuing to eat in angry silence.

* * *

His newest hobby was earning the ire of the curly headed witch that stood in the middle of the clearing. She wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans before tying her hair back in an elastic that ought to have snapped halfway across the clearing.

"You're staring," Padma said quietly, eyes flicking up to his as he leaned against the tree. "Michael noticed. You should really curb that unless you want more problems on top of the ones you already have."

He rolled his eyes. "She's teaching us something, isn't she? Am I not meant to be watching her?"

Padma huffed. "You know exactly what I mean, but you're too stubborn to admit it."

"You think that you already know so much about me, but you don't." he shot back, folding his arms across his chest. Granger was anxious, nibbling her bottom lip as she often did as she discussed the lesson with Corner.

"Well," she easily sang, "I know that you two are hitting it off, and you're probably on your way to a nice friendship if you can manage not to hex each other in the process."

He arched an eyebrow. "I had no idea."

"Playing coy isn't a good look for you. I saw Granger leave your cabin last week, and it was terribly late. The pair of you looked pretty cosy on the porch."

Draco's eyes widened a fraction before narrowing and he glared down at her. "And did you tell anyone else that?"

She shook her head. "Of course not. She may not have noticed it, but there was a stupid grin on your face."

"I don't grin."

She scoffed. "Keep telling yourself that, but I saw you."

"Expecto Patronum," came the near silent incantation as she whipped her wand through the motion. A translucent otter burst from the tip of her wand, wisps of what looked like smoke following it as it darted around the children. It wiggled as Granger laughed, but the patronus didn't hold his attention for long before he looked back to her.

She was ecstatic to see her Patronus, wearing an expression as if she was surprised to see it. She hadn't expected to be able to cast it. It was like a load of bricks hitting him, and he was curious. Did her breakup with Weasley affect her so? Maybe it was lingering effects of the war?

Padma jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow, a triumphant smile curving her lips. "You're really noticeable."

He brushed her off, shaking his head.

Henry piped up from the front of the crowd, clutching his wand tightly as he watched Granger with bright eyes. "Only Harry Potter could cast a Patronus so young, I heard."

Malfoy snorted. Of course, it was always Saint Potter, wasn't it? Chosen One and all of that rot.

It didn't go amiss by Granger, who glared at him. She turned back to the small crowd in front of her, watching with a muted expression as her otter disappeared. "That doesn't mean you shouldn't try." she said.

So they tried, all of them but Draco who kept his spot against the tree. Corner's was successful, but he didn't care to see the shape it took. Padma's darted around his feet, a miniature cat that attempted to paw his legs, and latch onto him.

He gave her a sharp look, the corners of his lips twitching as she sniggered.

On the way back to the camp for dinner, Adelaide and Henry stuck to his side. Henry bumped his shoulder against Draco's side as he peered up questioningly. "What is it?" Draco asked.

"What's your Patronus?" Henry asked.

Draco froze in place, not noticing how Granger brushed passed him having heard the question. "I can't cast a Patronus." he murmured quietly.

* * *

Hermione jumped out of the bed at a roar that echoed throughout the middle of the night. Her wand was gripped tightly in her hand as she looked around the room. Her shoulders relaxed, only a bit, as she saw her fail safes were still in place. Her mind jumped to the worst possible circumstance, her free hand flying to the charm around her neck.

She huffed. It wasn't fair to assume Malfoy would do anything wrong, not when he had been pleasant as of late. Not to mention it wasn't burning, and it was charmed to scald her if she were asleep.

She slid on her trainers, opening her door quietly as she padded down the steps. All of the cabins seemed to be undisturbed, and there was no waiting chaos just outside her front door. She supposed she probably could have gone back to sleep, but naturally curious and not willing to leave things to chance, Hermione looked around.

It was well after midnight. While her mind had decidedly jumped to a nightmare scenario, the wards had not been compromised. It was more likely that a child had snuck out after the forced curfew, but then again, a small child could not have made that sound either.

Hermione crept along the forest's edge, taking silent steps into the thick of it while she avoided the leaves and branches on the ground. Her eyes widened as she came to the clearing they'd visited earlier.

Malfoy was standing in the middle, his shoulders tense and the muscles of his back visibly taut through the thin material of his jumper. "This is a fucking waste of time. I can't cast this," he growled under his breath.

Her head snapped up at the other voice just as she'd started to move away.

"Are you usually this impatient? It's an advanced charm, Draco. You need to open your mind, and stop expecting to be able to cast a corporeal Patronus on the sixth try." Padma rolled her eyes. "Try again," she motioned to continue as he glared.

"Has it only been six attempts?" he asked, running fingers through his hair.

She nodded. "I counted. I thought you might be a prat about it."

Hermione's mouth dried. He had told her that Padma wanted to be friends, but she'd falsely assumed that it wasn't anything like the playfulness she shared with Ron and Harry. But Padma was completely comfortable teasing the Slytherin.

He couldn't cast a Patronus. Hermione had thought it might be the case. Given his time spent using the Dark Arts, casting the charm would be near impossible.

"I don't have a happy memory," he snapped. "What do you think of? The first time a wizard got his hand up your jumper?"

"I'll pretend you didn't say that." she replied smoothly. "I think of Parvati if you'd really like to know. Our parents owned a villa in Spain, and we spent several summers there."

Malfoy looked like he'd been slapped. "I'm sorry I —"

She waved him off. "Did you say something prattish? I'm sorry, I wasn't paying you any mind." Padma laughed. "I know the charm is difficult, but you shouldn't give up."

He shook his head, grimacing. "This is a waste of time. I can cast any Unforgivable, but this is light magic, Patil."

Hermione's laugh was muffled behind her hand as the dark haired girl reached out and flicked Malfoy right between the eyes. Worried the sudden sound would get her caught — and she'd really rather not have to explain why she was still watching — Hermione retreated to camp.

Once back in her room, with her back pressed flush against the door, she slid to the floor. Her mind was filled with questions, as nosy as she was. But it was all too clear to her now —

This summer was changing things in ways she had only hoped for.

* * *

The storm hit in the middle of gathering ingredients for a healing salve. Hannah was at her side, wide eyed as she looked up to the sky that was hidden behind the clouds. "This is bad." Hannah said.

It was an understatement.

The wind ripped around them, pulling Hermione's jumper flush against her as it started to pour. "We need to get back to camp as soon as possible," Hermione yelled over the wind, covering her ears when thunder cracked. "Do you remember the way back? I can't bloody see anything."

Hannah shook her head, holding a branch back from the tree ahead of them so they could slip past it. "I have no idea. Should we take cover? Michael and Malfoy will come looking for us, won't they?" Her lower lip trembled as she uttered Malfoy's name.

Hermione shook her head. "I'm sure they will, but they need to stay with the kids. Not to mention I don't trust Michael to get along with Malfoy for long. If Leanne starts another row, he's not going to stop them."

The blonde woman blinked, looking down at her feet in shame. "I haven't stopped her either. I'm sorry."

"Now isn't the time for apologies. It's fine; Malfoy doesn't want any of us to be a buffer between the two of them," because he thinks he deserves it, doesn't he, Hermione kept her thoughts to herself, pressing on through the forest. The earth was mush below her feet, and her trainers were quickly being weighed down mud. "Anyway, if you really feel sorry, you can discuss it with her when we get back."

It happened as Hermione blinked, and Hannah threw herself backward, sending them both rolling across the ground. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Hannah shrieked. For a moment, the Gryffindor was silent, and despite the turn of events she was still certain that Hannah had never cursed as she just has.

Propping herself up on her elbows, Hermione stared in abject horror. Lighting had split through the night sky, severing a large tree before them, and it was slowly tilting. "We have to go move." Hermione gasped. She sprung to her feet, whimpering at the hot pain at her ankle as she hauled Hannah out of danger.

"I could have died," Hannah wheezed, her hand flying to her throat as she stared at Hermione. "Your ankle…"

She shook her head. "Not important right now. We need to get out of here before something worse happens."

In the back of her head, she knew that she was in for a proper scolding by the time they did make it back to camp. Malfoy had said that it was going to rain, and she had bloody ignored him after performing a weather charm.

For her pride, it would have been accurate, but this was a storm fueled by magic. Her working theory was that residual dark magic on the grounds of Hogwarts, which wasn't very far away at all, had caused the storm system. She'd never seen a magical storm in all of her years since learning she was a witch, but if there was anything she didn't want to find out, it was how dangerous a magical storm could be when it was within the ley lines that Hogwarts was founded on.

And that was why she told Hannah absolutely nothing.

As Hermione took a step forward, she winced. "I won't be able to walk back." she muttered, ignoring the widening of the other girl's eyes. "Unless...how are you healing spells? I'm fairly certain it's broken."

Hannah shook her head. "I won't be able to heal it."

Hermione nodded, propping herself up against the tree. "Get back to camp, and I'll find shelter for the night. Send someone for me in the morning, yeah? I'll send a Patronus with my location."

"You can't stay out here all night, Hermione. It's freezing."

Another side effect of a magical storm surely. Water dripping from the trees were quickly turning to icicles. "I'll be okay." Hermione replied. "You need to get back while you can. It's probably going to get worse."

Hannah was conflicted, but she slowly settled with a nod before raising her wand and collecting her thoughts. "If it lets up, we'll come back immediately."

"Don't." she ordered.

The young woman left her with an unsteady, "Point me,"

* * *

He'd fucking told her that today was not the day to make a trek into the Forbidden Forest. He had fucking argued with her in the kitchens that her weather charm was inaccurate, and she should have bloody well listened to him considering how the night was going now.

Granger and the Hufflepuff had yet to stumble back into camp. With each minute ticking by, he clenched his jaw tighter as whispers sounded around him that they might not make it back. "Everyone, go to bed," Malfoy barked, his gaze lingering on his own charges as they pouted. "Now." he bit out.

Corner stayed at his side, a fierce tick in his jaw and his arms folded across his chest. "We should go after them."

"Granger can handle herself in the storm, so can Abbott. They'll be safe together, and we can't very well leave everyone." Malfoy said. Though he would like nothing more than to tear into the forest and wring Granger's skinny neck. Only because he'd told her not to do this.

Corner was insistent. "Padma could watch over them. One of the cabins is large enough to hold everyone and they're unlikely to — oh, fuck," he sucked in a breath as Abbott tripped at the edge of the tree line. "Hannah!" he hollered, sprinting for her. He picked her up from the ground, sliding an arm around her waist and half carrying her.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed when Granger didn't follow. "Where is she?" he asked.

Her face was streaked with rain, or tears, he wasn't all that sure, but it didn't bode well for his question. "She broke her ankle pulling me out of the way from a falling tree. Hermione said she couldn't walk back to camp."

His nostrils flared. "So you just left her?" Malfoy snapped. "Are you serious? What about loyalty and all of that rot?" He was towering over her, displaying more emotion than he had the entire summer, and the girl shriveled beneath his glare.

"Back off, Malfoy," Corner warned. "I'm sure there's a reason. Isn't there?"

Hannah's breathing was shaky at best. "She told me to come back. Hermione said that we needed to take cover for the night, and that she'd send a Patronus with her location in the morning."

The morning.

The morning?

Fucking Gryffindors.

"I'm going after her," Malfoy said smoothly, his voice strained. "If you're smart, you won't let anyone outside tonight. It's no normal storm."

"Wait!" Hannah shouted, latching onto his sleeve. "It's too dangerous. You can't go into that. Trees are falling left and right —" her voice died in her throat.

"So we should leave Granger in the thick of it? She saves your life from the very thing you're warning me against, and you believe her when she says to leave her? Fuck you." he sneered.

"Malfoy," Corner started. "If it's a magical system, Hannah is right. You might not find Hermione, much less make it back out of the forest."

Draco glared, wrenching his arm free of Abbott's grip. "She would never leave any of us out there. Does she not deserve the same courtesy?"

He turned away from them without pausing to listen to their bumbling replies, or their weak defenses of how they weren't terrible, it was just so dangerous. Malfoy thought it was a bunch of rubbish, and that if these were the people Granger believed she could count on, maybe she should re-evaluate that decision.

Which he would tell her as much, after he yelled at her until his voice was hoarse.

The Forbidden Forest was suspended in darkness, creatures fleeing across it as they worked to take cover. His clothes were drenched, sticking to his skin, and he could have cursed himself for not casting a warming charm. The biting cold wasn't the worst part. He was more worried about trees breaking from lightning, or the ice that was forming along the branches.

"Granger!" he yelled. And so it went, making his way farther into the forest while he called her surname, absently wondering if he was anywhere close to where she was.

"Malfoy?" came a croak.

He whirled around to see her, her head sticking out from a hollowed out tree and all the colour had drained from her face. His shoulders slumped as he grabbed her hand, tugging her under his arm. "We won't be able to make it back, but there's a chance that tree is going to be blown to bits if you stay in it." he growled.

She tripped, hissing and clutching his shirt. She shook her head. "I can't walk. Didn't Hannah tell you? Oh, Gods, why are you even out here? Do you have any idea how dangerous it is? You were right. It's a magical —"

"— I know, Granger." Without an explanation, he slid an arm around her back, slipping the other behind her knees. "There's a hut back here somewhere. I'm sure we can manage a fire if we try."

She whimpered as he carried her, hurrying through the trees. "You shouldn't be out here."

He smirked down at her. "I wouldn't be if you had listened to me. Tell me, do you normally have to learn everything the hard way?"

Granger's nose crinkled and she sighed. "Yes. It's what my mum always told me."

Malfoy kicked the door open to the hut that he sincerely hope would not fall apart on top of them throughout the course of the night. He set Granger on the couch before sealing the door, and layering wards over the hutt. "We're stuck here, but with any luck, the wards will prevent it from caving in on us."

She was shivering on the couch, soaked to the bone, and her clothes sticking to her. "I should have listened to you."

He nodded, but didn't bother to rub it in. "I know you're not going to like this, but you need to strip."

"Absolutely not." she mumbled, closing in on herself.

He rolled his eyes. "I don't give a fuck about your modesty. You'll freeze if you don't." Draco crouched in front of the fire, surveying what they had, and breathing in relief when he saw bundles of wood in the corner. "Take your clothes off, or I'll do it for you, Granger."

Her eyes widened in fear. "That's —" she spluttered.

"—Exactly what I'll do if you don't listen to me. You can make me invoke an oath if you want the promise that I won't speak of it if you like." Using his wand, he got the fire going, the embers crackling as he stood.

Granger was standing behind them, making her way closer to the fire. "I'm keeping my knickers on."

"You'll hear no complaints from me, It's just in my best interest for you to not freeze to death." Draco replied, pulling his shirt over his head. He noticed her lingering stare, the colour rushing to her cheeks, and normally he might have teased her for it, but if he did...she'd never get out of her clothes.

Granger was painfully shy as she peeled her jumper off, kneeling and laying it in front of the fire. She unsnapped her jeans after kicking her trainers off, and setting her socks beside his. After sliding her jeans down her legs, she laid them flat in front of the fire. "Oh, Merlin, I think I'm even colder now."

He moved the couch closer to them, leaning against the back of it after shucking his trousers. "Well, that's the other thing you're not going to like."

She glared at him, recognition clear in her features. "No."

He shrugged. "It's all your fault I'm in the middle of the goddamned storm from hell. The least you could do is help me not freeze to death. Keep in mind that I don't want to cuddle you either."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, I know. You'd much rather cuddle Padma." Still, Granger shuffled toward him, leaning her shoulder against his as she brought her knees to her chest.

He didn't stare at her breasts, he swore. "What are you on about? Padma is a friend, nothing more." Malfoy chuckled. Hoping she wouldn't offer him a reenactment of third year, he slid an arm around her shoulders and tugged her into him.

She stilled, and hung her head. "I just thought there was something there."

"She's a pain in the arse, and I would never date her, but she's a…" he grimaced as if the words pained him to say "friend."

Granger nodded. "That's great."

He didn't say anything. He wasn't interested in the mindless chatter she seemed to bring.

"You're quite warm." she muttered, turning into him a bit more. Her cheek rested against his shoulder, and her breath fanned across his collarbone. "And absurdly pale."

"Fuck off." he sniggered, his laugh echoing throughout the cabin. "Unless we want them to discover us mostly naked in the morning, we should probably set up locking charms."

She looked horrified at the thought. "It would be rather awkward." Granger agreed, and she casted the necessary charms.

In a move that was sure to only invite more conversation, he muttered, "Padma would hound me about it without a doubt."

Granger didn't say anything to that bit. Several minutes passed, all of them with him being all too aware of the feel of smooth skin against his. And then she asked, "Why did you come after me? Surely you realised how dangerous the storm was."

He gritted his teeth. He'd expected this, her curiosity and questions and the fact that she was going to think he liked her. Malfoy stared at the ceiling, his fingers tapping an uneven rhythm against her shoulder. "I'm forewarning you not to read into this like you're sure to do as I'm not going to answer questions of whether we're friends, ot not."

She snorted. "I don't expect you to think of me as your friend."

He didn't miss the subtle deflection or the brief way her shoulders tensed. "I was worried." Malfoy said simply. "Abbott and Corner were willing to let you stay out here all night, but you wouldn't have let any of us do that."

"Oh," she murmured quietly.

"I suspect that even if it was me, you would have charged off into the forest regardless. It's ridiculous not to extend the same courtesy."

Her head dropped to his shoulder, her body relaxing in front of the fire. "You were worried," Granger mumbled under her breath, more to herself than to him. "You have a habit of getting me out of tricky situations."

"You'd already cast a cushioning charm when you were going to fall into the lake. It would have been fine."

She nodded. "I suppose, but you didn't have to come back to catch me, and you certainly didn't have to brave the worst storm in the last century to make sure I was okay."

He wasn't sure if she heard him over the crackling fire when he replied, "It was the right thing to do."

But she did lean into him a bit more, so he would hazard the guess that she had heard it after all.

* * *

There will be a warning at the top of the next chapter, but while I was looking over my outline today, I realized that there is a scene that I did not provide a warning for at the very beginning. I am grossly apologetic for this considering it is my job as the writer to be sure you know what you're walking into. In the next chapter, the very last scene deals with Draco, and self-harm, and I want readers to be aware. I'll add the notes, and it will also be a scene you can skip if it is too traumatic. (It's a bit traumatic for me to write. It's the only trigger I have.)

That wraps up this chapter. Please review and fingers crossed I will see you by next Tuesday again. :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Welcome to this week's update. (Which was meant to be posted in two days. I assume you don't mind.) Nice to see you. Please,** _ **PLEASE**_ **, read the below warning.**

 **Warning: Depicted in this chapter is self-harm and suicidal thoughts. It centres around Draco attempting to cut the out the Dark Mark. If you would** _ **like**_ **to skip this scene, it is the very last scene. I'm not typing out a warning mid chapter because it looks tacky, but it's the scene that starts in Draco's room at the end of the chapter. There will be a bottom note with what you need to know without going into detail. This is my only trigger, so if there are errors, I apologize. It was agonizing to write.**

* * *

Hermione liked the mornings before everyone else stirred the best. Usually, Hannah and Michael at least pretended to not completely loathe Malfoy's presence, and it did make for quiet mornings. With their charges still tucked away in bed, not due to wake for another forty-five minutes, Hermione sat on the island in the kitchen.

Balancing a slice of buttered toast precariously on her knee, she tipped her bottle of water to her lips.

"Merlin, do you even own a brush?" Malfoy asked behind her, stretching his arms high over his head and leaning backward. His shirt rose, exposing the hard lines of his abdomen, and she _wasn't_ looking.

That would have been foolish. "Might I interest you in a new insult?" she muttered and bit into her toast.

Michael was leaning against the cupboard, the pot of coffee steaming behind him while he held his mug tightly in his grip. Hannah stood across from him, rubbing her eyes as the tea kettle whistled.

"I didn't want to be up this early." Hannah groaned, dragging her fingers through her hair. "Isobel had a nightmare last night."

The group fell silent.

It was Malfoy who tentatively spoke, his eyes widened just enough for Hermione to notice. "Did she say anything?"

Hannah shook her head, and they noticed the dark rings under her eyes for the first time. "No, she didn't say anything, but," she trailed off, shaking her head as her eyes watered, "she was screaming. Leanne put a silencing charm up as soon as it started."

Hermione's mouth snapped shut before she could ask how they hadn't heard. A silencing charm made sense. "What else?"

Hannah shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Her screams...I'm certain screaming hurt her more than she let on. Isobel wouldn't say a word to us. All she would do is shake her head, and lean on us. But she screamed until her throat was raw. I'm worried it left lasting damage on her vocal cords."

Nodding, Hermione clasped her hands in her lap. "I'll take her to see Madam Pomfrey today. They're still rebuilding, but she let us know at the beginning of the summer that the hospital wing would be well enough if we had an emergency." She fell silent. "Forgive me, I'm overstepping. Hannah, would you mind taking her? You're her counsellor after all, and she would feel more comfortable with you."

Hannah nodded with a smile, her eyes brightening.

Malfoy knocked his elbow against hers. "Good move, Granger." he murmured before swiping the last half of her toast.

She sighed, not bothering to fuel his antics. Besides, she liked them a bit more than she cared to let on. Since the storm, Malfoy was staggeringly different, and she was not the only one to notice. In the beginning, he had made it clear he wasn't going out of his way for the summer, but she was certain he was starting to enjoy it just as much as her.

It helped that he was playful in his demeanour, joking and insulting her — and everyone else — with no real malice. It was too much to hope that he might become friends with Michael or Leanne, but it was a start.

As always, the topic of what they planned to do for the day cropped up, and as always, Malfoy took the chance to make a dig at her.

"Don't let Granger pick. She'll lead everyone into a disaster." he quipped, taking the cup of tea Hannah handed to him. "And none of that educational shite this week. They're children; they have an entire term to learn after this summer."

She thought it might have been the most he'd ever said to her at once. Hermione bristled at his tone, narrowing her eyes. "Who asked you?"

Michael cleared his throat. "I wouldn't normally agree with him, but they're getting antsy. They want to do something fun."

Hermione decided to not explain why they should still finish what they had started with searching for ingredients for a healing salve. She could admit it was still a bit boring. "What did you have in mind?"

Malfoy said simply, "Quidditch," while blowing gently on his tea. "Don't give me that look. We won't go over the lake this time."

"Play quidditch if you like," Hermione flippantly replied, waving her hand. Even if she did think the sport was overly barbaric, she wouldn't stop them from playing. It would just mean a careful layering of charms to protect the younger years. "That doesn't bother me."

Michael nodded.

And then Malfoy shook his head, blond strands dishevelled as he did so. "No. You need to participate."

"That's a hard fuck no, Malfoy." she insisted, her voice borderline with a growl. "I'm not getting back on a broom."

"Is it really different than a dragon?" Michael asked in an attempt to sway her.

She glared. "Yes, Michael, there is definitely a difference."

"Look." Malfoy interjected, "for one reason or another, all of the children like you. If you don't participate, they're less likely to. Don't you remember that Henry and Adelaide only got in the air because of you?"

Hermione's shoulders slumped. "That's a complete guilt trip."

Malfoy shrugged. "I'm right, you know."

She gritted her teeth, looking to either of their fellow peers to help her out. Nothing. Not even a spared glance. Well, she could see where their loyalties were. "We're not splitting teams off into houses."

"That wouldn't make any sense," Michael said, exchanging a look with the man to his right. "There aren't enough kids in each house anyway."

"I know that." Hermione snapped, her cheeks darkening. "I just meant —"

Malfoy chuckled. "We know. Not to fear, we will promote the excellent image of house unity. Except for Smith. I want her on the opposing team so I can knock her out of the sky."

" _Malfoy,"_ Hermione gaped.

To which he offered a wink. "What? Don't you think she'll be doing the same even if she's on my team? At the very least I want points for it."

There was still a not so minor problem for Hermione. "I can't fly. It's not a skill I have. Whatever team I was on would just be slowed down with me and —"

Malfoy grinned as he brought his cup away from his mouth. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about that if I were you."

* * *

Wonderful as she may be, Hermione was going to strangle Lisa in her sleep if she did not stop laughing. They sat at the edge of Hermione's bed with Lisa just a hair away from slipping off of the bed and plummeting into the floor.

"Okay," Lisa breathed, wiping her eyes, "run this by me again?"

"Malfoy is teaching me how to fly." Hermione bit out.

Lisa fell into giggles again. "Oh, Hermione, if you could see the look on your face right now. It's priceless."

"This is ridiculous. I don't need flying lessons!"

"Didn't you say you couldn't fly? That sounds like something that one would say if they needed flying lessons." Lisa replied, crossing her legs and bracing her hands against the blanket. "What's so bad about Draco teaching you to fly? Hasn't he already proved he's not evil?"

Hermione spluttered. "That's not — I don't think Malfoy is evil."

"I'd hope not considering he saved your arse two days ago. Which," Lisa hedged, a bright look on her face, "you still haven't told me why the door was locked with Padma and I got there."

She could feel her face quickly heating up, no doubt making it look like more than it was. "Nothing happened. It was too dangerous to make our way back through the storm. I cast locking charms when the door kept opening. The wind nearly tore it off the hinges."

It was a believable lie, but Lisa shook her head. "That was some impressive spellwork then. You mean to tell me you were worried about the wind using _Alohomora?"_

"Alright," Hermione sighed. "I was embarrassed and neither of us wanted to be caught like that."

Lisa's eyebrows shot up. "Caught like how? Exactly what did you get up to?"

She flushed. "Don't make it sound like that. Malfoy and I don't like each other that way."

"Which way?"

Hermione snapped, "I don't know. Pick one. I was soaked from the rain. He told me to strip, and he told me if I didn't take my clothes off, he would."

Lisa gaped at her, her eyes widening impossibly large. "This is better than Christmas." She whispered. "That's quite...well, I was mostly teasing you. Did you," her voice dropped dramatically, feigning theatrics, "use body heat to stay warm?"

Hermione refused to say anything. Which apparently said everything for her. "Stop." She whispered, eyes wide as Lisa sniggered. "It's not like that!"

"Isn't it though? How does he look under those clothes? He was the Slytherin Seeker, you know. He must be fit."

He was, Hermione knew. She could vividly recall the sharp contours of his stomach, the well defined 'V' leading into his underwear, and she'd really have preferred that the memory didn't affect her so. "You would be correct." Hermione offered, her voice strained.

"Did you see his…."

Hermione blinked.

Lisa tried again. "You know…"

"You need to be clearer," Hermione said, her nose twitching as she stared, still confused.

Lisa sighed heavily, her hair brushing her knees as she leaned forward and pinched the bridge of her nose. "His dick, Hermione. I'm asking you if you saw his dick," she said flatly.

She was certain she flushed bright red from head to toe. "I—" Hermione sputtered. "—That's hardly appropriate!"

"From that reaction, I think you saw it. Merlin, sign me up for the next storm."

Hermione's heartbeat was loud between her ears. "I didn't see it," she said finally. Her face was hot enough to cook an egg on, but she was bound and determined to be sure Lisa didn't believe she'd seen Malfoy's dick. She absolutely hadn't. But… "I felt it," Hermione muttered.

Lisa's shriek must have been heard through the entire camp, considering someone rapped on the door immediately after. "We're fine. Go away!" Lisa shouted. "Tell me everything right now." She hissed.

"First of all, I kept my knickers on. Malfoy stayed in his underwear as well. However, we fell asleep sometime early in the morning hours, and when I woke up...I was pressed against him, and I felt it."

Lisa appeared to be seconds from bursting. "Oh, Gods." Her grin was wicked and promised nothing good would come of it. "Does he realise?"

Hermione shook her head. "I tried moving away when I woke, but he pulled me back into him. He was quite handsy, honestly." Not in the groping sense; he'd been well in control of himself even fast asleep. She couldn't forget the feel of his hand mistakenly brushing her hips, or his bicep against her chest as he held her close. "It's funny considering he told me the night before, ' _It's not as if I want to cuddle you either, Granger,'"_ her imitation of his deep voice was horrendous.

Lisa wouldn't stop laughing. "So, he cuddles. Who would have thought?"

She shrugged. "He's absolutely a cuddler, and I'm thrilled he doesn't know that I know. When I couldn't get away, I had no choice but to lay there unless I wanted to wake him. He stirred eventually though, and I just pretended to be asleep while he untangled himself."

* * *

"Let me be perfectly clear, this is a _terrible_ idea," Hermione muttered, picking at her lunch while Malfoy waited patiently. "I shouldn't be on a broom, much less in a quidditch match."

He smirked. "You'll be fine. If you fall, one of us will catch you."

She scowled. "Or," she said, "I could just not fall at all, and the best way to do that is to stay on the bloody ground."

"Language, Miss Granger," Henry sang, bouncing in his seat. "Would you hurry up? We've been waiting all day to watch your flying lesson."

Hermione shot a look to Malfoy. "You told them they could watch us?" She seethed. "Malfoy —"

He put his hands up. "Think of it as a bonding exercise."

"I don't want to bond with you." Hermione snapped, watching Henry wriggle in his seat from the corner of her eye. "I'm going to embarrass myself."

He leaned on the table, bracing his palms on the wood in front of her. Malfoy nodded, and his hair fell into his face with the motion. "You probably will, but it's free entertainment."

"Arse."

* * *

Hermione could summon a broom. It wasn't like this was her first flying lesson after all, but the problem was everything that came after. Such as, but not limited to, actually mounting the broom.

"Fuck!" Hermione yelped as she fell _again_. From her vantage point, she could see Henry begrudgingly handing a sickle to Olivia. The younger Gryffindor looked like the cat who got the cream. "I give up!"

Malfoy doubled over, still sniggering as he stared at her. "Granger, you do realise that you've only managed to mount the broom three times, right?"

 _If only looks could kill_.

Hermione glared, climbing to her feet and brushing dirt from her jeans. "I'm well aware of that and the fact that I've fallen off every single time, you incorrigible prat."

He held his hand out, summoning the broom into it and held it in front of him. "Half of your problem is that you're acting scared."

Looking to the group of children that were watching her, she murmured quietly, "I _am_ scared."

Grey eyes softened behind the fringe of blond hair which had fallen into his face. "In the grand scheme of things, how is a broom any more frightening than everything else you've done?"

Admittedly, he did have a point. "I always know I'm going to fall."

"Or you fall because you think you're going to fall," he said. "Think about it. If you're so sure you're going to fall, you're more likely to overcorrect yourself and then you'll eat dirt."

Hermione looked at her feet for two long seconds before sighing and snatching the broom out his hand. "Alright."

She did fall again, a few more times actually, but on the fifth try, Hermione managed to make a short lap around the clearing. Still, it wasn't enough to feel comfortable fifty feet in the air.

"You're doing it wrong," Malfoy called out. "You're holding the broom wrong, and your form is atrocious."

Her head fell forward, and she wished more than anything that he wasn't fast enough to jump out of the way if she flew straight at him. "Then teach me," she yelled.

It was a comment she regretted. Teaching her the proper form required close contact, and due to a memory of a cabin, Hermione found herself blushing without a good reason.

"Put your hands here," he muttered. Malfoy grabbed her hands while she was hovering three feet off of the ground, placing them correctly and he curled her fingers around the broomstick. "Lean forward like so," His palm was heavy against the small of her back as he urged her forward.

Unfortunately, every single child, particularly the females, were watching them with renewed interest.

"Malfoy —" Hermione began, but was cut off by a booming voice.

Michael's voice startled her, causing her to jump, and she topped right off of her broom. Ravenclaw's counsellor stormed toward them, his face flushed and his jaw clenched. "Where is he?" Michael snarled.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked quickly, springing to her feet and taking a quick, sideways step in front of Malfoy. "Where is who?"

Leanne, Lisa, and Hannah were running toward them. There was no mistaking the distraught look on Lisa's face, or the tears that were streaked down her cheeks. And her heart sank in her chest.

"Out of the way," Michael told her, grabbing her shoulder and shoving her out of the way.

"Watch yourself, Corner." The man behind her snapped, catching her by the bend in her elbow, and steadying her. "Whatever it is you think I've done —"

"Enough with the false niceties, Malfoy. We might have given you a chance, but we all knew it was only a matter of fucking time until you did something."

Lisa yelled, "Stop!"

It did nothing.

Red-faced from the accusation, Malfoy stepped forward, his eyes dangerously narrowed as his wand hand twitched. "I've been with Granger since one o'clock this afternoon. What are you accusing me of?"

Lisa knocked Michael out of the way, clearly out of breath. "I told you Malfoy has nothing to do with Oliver."

"Oliver?" Hermione asked, her shoulders falling. "What's going on?" She'd stepped in front of Malfoy again, her wand already in her hand. "Michael, the longer you stand here and accuse him of wrongdoing, the longer we have a problem."

"Oli is missing," Lisa said, a sob tearing free of her throat. "No one has seen him since lunchtime, and he'd told me he was on his way down here to watch you. I found his wand at the edge of the forest."

All the blood drained from Hermione's face as she turned to Michael. "And what? You thought that he'd taken Oliver? How ridiculous can you be?"

Leanne had been silent up until then. Her arms were folded across her chest. "He's a Death Eater, and _don't_ look at me like that," she hissed at Hermione. "It's best to check all of the possibilities."

Malfoy scoffed. "What other possibilities did you look into? Any of them? Or did you just assume that I kidnapped a thirteen-year-old boy to resurrect the Dark Lord for a second time?"

Hermione would have said the joke was made at a bad time, but Michael had already thrown her out of the way. Her bum hit the ground hard, pain shooting up her spine from her tail bone. "Draco couldn't have done anything!" Hermione yelled.

Grey eyes snapped to her, filled with curiosity at the sudden use of his first name, rather than his last.

Michael looked at her, his wand already digging into Malfoy's throat. But she was certain that Malfoy would best him in a duel and it was in his best interest to remove his wand immediately.

She scrambled, pulling the chain from her shirt, and holding it up. It shined beneath direct sunlight and she swallowed hard. "Not only has he been with me for the entire day nearly, but I would also have known right away if he'd done anything. Not that it's anyone's business, but this was charmed to burn at the sign of violence as a part of the probation set forth by the Ministry."

Malfoy was staring at her, his face an unreadable mask, but anger had flickered behind it, and possibly the smallest amount of disappointment.

"So," Hermione snapped, "I suggest you get your wand off of him, or I won't stop him from hexing you to kingdom come. We need to — Malfoy, where are you doing?"

He didn't so much as look at any of them. "More than you lot. You're all more interested in proving how evil I am than finding this kid."

It hurt to know that he was right. Hermione knew instantly and had known before, that accusations could be cleared after finding Oliver.

Lisa clapped Hermione on the shoulder before hurrying after him without another word.

* * *

She would have preferred to help, but Hermione stayed with the campers as Michael and Hannah went in search of Oliver. Lisa and Malfoy had already been gone for over an hour, and Hermione found herself sitting in the kitchens.

The door creaked open, and she glanced up, hoping to hear good news, but it was only Padma. Her face fell, and she returned to picking at her nails. A few moments would go by, and Padma would leave after finding whatever it was she needed. Then she would be alone with her thoughts.

The children were in their cabins, wards re-worked just in case something had gone horribly wrong. From the spot on the kitchen counters, Hermione sat in front of the window, and she had a full view of the camp.

"They found him," Padma said.

Her head whipped around, her lips parting as an invisible weight vanished from her chest. "Oh, thank God." Hermione breathed.

Padma placed her hands on her hips, glancing at the door to see if anyone was there. "I wanted to talk to you about Draco."

Hermione nodded. "Go on."

"Was it your idea or the Ministry's for your little charm?" Padma asked, a dangerous edge in her voice. "Because I don't believe it was mandated by his probation. I think it was you. I remember the charmed galleons from Dumbledore's Army."

It was like cold water had been dumped over her head. "I brought it to Minister Shacklebolt because I was worried."

Padma's smile was anything but kind. "You testified for him. You _told_ the Wizengamot he wasn't a danger to society, but this is what you truly thought of him, isn't it? You're not better than Leanne or Michael. If anything, you're bloody worse considering he's begun to see you as a friend."

Hermione flinched. The girl in front of her might as well have slapped her. "At the time, I had every right to be worried! Have I learned that he would never harm anyone here? Of course I have. I don't know who you think you are —"

"I'm his friend." Padma hissed. "Which is a lot more than I can say for you right now. He's the one who found Oliver. Oliver saw a rabbit rush into the forest, and he wanted to pet it. He said it was injured. Except he got lost and he didn't have a wand. Draco said when they found him, he couldn't breathe properly."

"I don't —"

" _Don't interrupt me._ " She growled. "Draco carried Oliver on his back while telling him things to take his mind off the ankle he sprained. _That_ is the man you're so afraid of, and if you can't, or won't see him for who he is now, then I suggest you keep your distance."

Hermione sat stunned. "It wasn't my intention to hurt him."

"And it was probably wasn't his intention to give a damn about you, but he does. Weasley dumped you and he tried to make you feel better, in his own way. He took off in the middle of a storm that very well could have killed him, and now he's certain that he is unredeemable."

She stared at Padma, everything rushing up to meet her. "He can't believe that."

Padma laughed miserably. "I'm not sorry for yelling at you, even if he'll be irritated with me. He's locked in his cabin now, but I suggest you figure out what the fuck you're going to say to fix this."

"I will." Hermione nodded. "I don't — I never thought that he needed to hear how I thought of him differently than before."

Padma's shoulders slumped. "He might never admit it because he's bloody stubborn, but I think he wants your forgiveness most of all."

* * *

Granger would have his head on a pike if she knew. The Gryffindor's beloved counsellor hadn't felt well after the events of the day, and he had the suspicion that she was avoiding him anyway.

A grimace curved his lips at the vivid memory of learning about her ingenious charm and finally finding Lisa's brother in the middle of the forest. He'd been sitting at the base of a tree, his ankle sprained.

Draco looked down at his forearm, jarring himself from the fresh memory.

The Dark Mark hadn't faded since the end of the war, and it stared back at him as he laid his forearm against his leg. Outside of his room, attached to the Slytherin cabin, he could hear the echoing laughter of children. Twirling the dagger in his hand, he wondered for a moment if he could even take the sharp edge to his skin. He hadn't been able to murder Headmaster Dumbledore even as his life depended hinged on his demise.

Growling softly under his breath, lest the fucking _children_ hear their guardian suffering a mental break, he brought the dagger down and stabbing it into his bedside table. It wobbled, the broken leg on the back right side giving way and toppling over. Hot candle wax slid along his trousers, and Draco rubbed his temples in frustration.

It was all he could think about — how Granger had tears in her eyes as if she'd hurt him by saying she'd prepared for him to fuck up. He'd expected everyone else to immediately turn — okay, Padma and Lisa both had more faith in him than he'd had in himself — but Granger? That had cut deeper than he'd admit.

He was — _is_ — a Death Eater, a pathetic follower to Lord Voldemort. Draco Malfoy knew who he was: a Pureblood elitist, a childhood bully that hadn't matured into his adult years, and he could believe that he was a menace to everyday Wizarding society. His probation was a sham, just another way for the Wizengamot to say they knew how to show mercy. He would have rather undertaken the same fate as his late parents than to be paraded around as the world's scapegoat.

He kicked the side of the table, his foot sinking into it as the wood splintered around his shoe.

Snatching the dagger by the ornate handle, he leaned against the dresser, and he didn't dare look in the mirror. He didn't need to make eye contact with his reflection to see the shell of himself. He could feel how weak willed he was if he considered this because he knew how it ended.

It ended with him bleeding out on the Hogwarts grounds, and really, it was what he had expected weeks ago during the final battle. Cutting out the final visible mark that tied him to a psychotic megalomaniac wasn't possible. Morsmordre would heal, but if he were to cut deeply enough, or if he were to slash at his inked forearm that damned him to this life as a social pariah...

Despite the pleasant summer air beyond the four walls, the tip of the blade was cool against his skin. Experimentally, he cut a thin line through the skull, only to watch it heal within a breath. His eyes narrowed, Draco cut through the mouth angrily, tilting the dagger through the Dark Mark. As he'd expected, it healed swiftly, and he smirked as he thought of that snake faced bastard rolling over in his grave if he'd had one.

Terrified to watch himself, and with his bottom lip trembling, Draco's eyes closed.

Slicing through his skin took hardly any effort at all, as sickening as it was. He teeth gnashed together at the pain. His knees buckled beneath him, the back of his skull slamming against the wooden ledge of the dresser as he slid to the floor.

The blood as it slid down his arm, dripping off of his fingertips and onto the pristine floor reminded him of his mother. As Greyback's teeth had sunk into the column on her neck, but it had been blood spatter then. Blood that was sprayed over his skin, and he wretched — bending over and dry heaving.

It was the sound that must have drawn someone to him. Three small knocks sounded against his door, and there was whispering on the other side. For fear that he would scream, he didn't call out with a lie, or to leave him alone.

The door swung open with a soft creak, but the scream that followed must have echoed throughout the entire camp. He looked at the child in horror, trying to hide his bloody arm by raising his leg to block the gruesome view. "Get out," he hissed.

The boy ran to his side, telling Isobel, "Tell the other counsellors, hurry!" And maybe luck _was_ on Malfoy's side as the young girl couldn't speak. Oliver tracked water across the floor, nearly slipping on what Draco didn't even know if it was the water, or the blood seeping from his arm. "Mister Malfoy,"

"You should go," Draco muttered, shifting his weight. "This isn't something you should see," he broke off as the third year tugged his shirt over his head. "What are you doing?"

"My aunt is a Muggle, and she's a nurse." Tearing his shirt, and wrapping it tightly around Malfoy's arm, he continued. "Mum was killed in the war; she was all I had, so we stayed with my aunt during holidays, and I picked up on a few things. You need pressure on this until you can get to St. Mungo's."

Draco shook his head. "What I need is for you to leave, and have someone — probably Granger Obliviate you so you never have to remember this."

The boy, fuck he couldn't even remember his name right then, grabbed his hand and slid his much smaller fingers through Malfoy's. "I've seen worse. What you need is for someone to be here, and tell you they're not leaving you." His brows furrowed together, and determination settled onto his face. "I won't let you die."

Draco found he wasn't sure how to reply as darkness threatened to swallow him up.

* * *

 **In the last scene, Draco is alone in his room, and in his thoughts. He is fidgeting with an ornate dagger, and he lashes out in anger at the events around him. Angry that the world might never see him change, and angry that he might not ever change, he attempts to carve out the Dark Mark himself.**

 **Oliver opens the door, with Isobel in tow, who he sends to get a counsellor. He sits with Malfoy and comforts him in the minutes that tick by, and he says, "I won't let you die."**

 **I would be extremely happy to hear your thoughts! I know the lot of them haven't been so forgiving with Malfoy, and fair warning that Leanne probably never will, but you will see some changes after this chapter.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Wow, I'm hoping that the muse will stay and I can finish out the rest of this in the next two months. A couple of things, we go full plot next chapter. Another thing, this was terrible to write. I thought I could easily do it, I really did, but I was wrong. So I hope that this will meet your expectations, and I hope that it is raw, and real, and that I've done a job well done.**

 **Thank you to MykEsprit for not only reassuring me, but doing a badass beta job.**

* * *

Hermione was in the middle before she knew she had begun.

It happened instantaneously, the chill shooting up her spine as distraught screams reached her and the charm against her throat igniting against her skin. She didn't give pause to a traitorous thought that it was Draco who had done something, not for a moment, not—

There wasn't time for thinking. She'd already made that mistake once that day, and she wouldn't— _couldn't_ —allow it to happen again.

She sprinted up the dock, the weakest board shattering below her trainer. Hermione rushed straight for the Slytherin cabin when she didn't see Malfoy standing beside Padma or Lisa. Her stomach dropped.

Isobel was in the middle of the camp, waving her hands in front of Michael, and screams died on her lips as he silenced on her.

"I can't help if you don't _tell_ me what's wrong," he stressed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "MacDougal, you need to—"

" _HELP!"_

Lisa's gaze jerked to Hermione at the sound of Oliver's pleas and the raw emotion in it. Padma seemed to realize all at once where the screaming was coming from; in an instant, she was moving.

Hermione didn't think she should be the first one in the cabin. But she _was_ faster, and she wouldn't apologize for that. "Oh, Merlin." She gasped, her eyes widening in terror at the sight in front of her.

All of the colour had drained from Malfoy's already pale face. The sheer lifelessness painting his features made bile rise in her throat. The wooden floor was covered in blood, though Oliver had managed to slow the bleeding. Oliver stared up at him, his eyes filled with tears as footsteps sounded behind Hermione—presumably Padma and Lisa. "You have to save him," Oliver begged.

"You need to leave," Hermione told the boy, stepping out of the way as Padma rushed past her. She leveled a stare at the girl, taking in her frazzled look, the way strands of hair were coming undone from its plait. "What do you want me to do?" Hermione asked.

If Padma wanted her far away from the man on the floor, she didn't say a word. Her lips were set in a determined grimace, and she nodded her head slightly. "Help me get him into the bathtub."

Lisa was right behind her. The three of them carefully waved their wands, levitating Malfoy into the bathroom. "We need blood replenishment potions," Lisa said, gritting her teeth as his head hit the back of the clawfoot tub. "Calming Draught. Merlin, what the fuck are we doing?"

Hermione understood immediately. "We need to get to St Mungo's."

"...no," he whispered, struggling to open his eyes. "They'll admit me."

"Get the potions, would one of you? I can't leave him." Whereas she had been close to tears only seconds earlier, Padma had schooled her features.

Lisa was out of the door, slamming it shut behind her in the same movement. Her voice floated, angry and tense, as she told everyone to stay out of the Slytherin cabin if they knew what was good for them.

"Granger," Draco muttered.

Hermione froze in the doorway, the charm still white hot against her skin. "You shouldn't waste your strength," she uttered softly. She caught sight of herself in the mirror, looking completely wild in the moment.

It was her fault. Hermione had caused this. It didn't matter that it had never been intentional; without a doubt, Hermione Granger had played a part. And she wasn't sure she should be there at all, not as—

"You know, I can hear your brain all the way from over here." He laughed. Her heart clenched as his usual baritone was missing, and a weak whisper had replaced it. "Padma, tell her it's not—fuck, that hurts!" Malfoy hissed, his head slamming back as his body convulsed.

Padma was fussing over him then, her hands flitting to his slashed forearm as her bottom lip quivered. "It's healing."

"The Dark Mark will repair itself if damaged," Hermione whispered, but she did not take one step closer.

"Tell her—"

Padma sighed. "You sure are bossy despite being on Death's doorstep."

Hermione couldn't control her audible gasp at the words. "I'm sorry," she murmured.

Not that she could tell, but it looked as if Malfoy had attempted to roll his eyes. "Padma, I swear—"

The woman glared at him. "Get over here, Hermione."

She didn't move.

"I will _Accio_ her myself, if I have to," Malfoy hissed.

Hermione moved at that, too afraid he would strain himself. She kneeled beside the tub next to Padma and looked down at his arm. It was covered in red, spilling down his forearm and rolling off his fingertips. The Dark Mark was still momentarily disfigured, but it was rapidly healing. "Stop talking," Hermione said, lifting her eyes to meet his.

"He wants me to tell you he doesn't blame you for—" Padma gestured to the wound. "For the record, neither do I. The other things, absolutely, but this was a choice he made. Which we will get to, and we will help you, Draco."

Hermione couldn't believe she'd ever speculated that the relationship between them was at all romantic. She'd known Padma and Parvati for years, and Padma's tone was unmistakable. Hermione's head tilted as she paused, just as the door opened behind her. It made more sense for the young witch to be so protective now.

She thought of Malfoy like a brother.

Vials clinked together as Lisa rushed into the room, handing the pain potions to Padma. "He needs these first," Lisa instructed, laying the rest beside the sink basin.

He greedily swallowed them as they were tipped to his lips. "That tastes like shite," he muttered.

"Does it? The blood replenishment potions won't taste much better," Padma replied in earnest, reaching a hand over her head.

It was all Hermione could do to sit there, feeling out of place as she did so. Lisa and Padma had it clearly under control, so why was she there? As she moved to stand, Malfoy shook his head. "I should leave," she said slowly, looking to the two girls in confusion. "Three is a crowd, and I'll only get in the way."

He shook his head again. "Don't go."

Padma gave a slight nod as his eyes fluttered shut. "Stay," she mouthed to Hermione.

It was, single-handedly, the most frightening moment of her life as she watched his labored breathing. His chest rose and fell with each breath, and his free hand gripped the tub's edge until his knuckles were white. "Don't take me to Mungo's," he insisted again.

She cleared her throat. "I know you may not want to hear this, but I think that might be for the best." Hermione whispered, her heart rattling in her chest as his eyes shot open. "I don't _want_ you to go there, but I'm worried that…" Hermione trailed off as she remembered—as if she hadn't known the moment she saw him—just how close they had been to losing him.

"We'll talk about that tomorrow," he replied lazily, his head falling to the side as Padma cleaned the blood from his arm.

There were two charms dangling from Padma's neck. As her brows drew together in determination, it gave Hermione the chance to see it up close. The letter P was stamped on both pendants, filled with a rich black ink that contrasted against the gold. On the pendant tucked behind the first, there was what appeared to be dried blood.

Hermione's lips parted. _Parvati must have been wearing it when she was killed._

"I haven't cleaned it," Padma murmured. "I'm afraid if I do, it will become real."

Her cheeks heated up as she realized she'd been so obvious in her staring, but Hermione could only nod. Hermione leaned against the tub, laying her arm on the edge. "How bad is the pain?" she asked. "Do you need another pain potion?"

He shook his head. "I'll live, unfortunately."

Padma burst into tears then, no longer able to keep her emotions at bay.

* * *

Fingers brushed against her forearm, trailing along her bared skin. Then they moved up, tracing up her bicep and her shoulder. "Granger," came a low voice, but she didn't stir. "Granger," the voice said again, this time accompanied by a sharp poke to her cheek.

Hermione yelped. It was dark in the room, the stars clearly visible outside of the bathroom. She rubbed her eyes, shifting her weight. The floor was terribly uncomfortable, and her back might never be normal again after camping in the forest for a year.

She realized rather slowly that this _wasn't_ her cabin, and this _wasn't_ her bathroom.

"Are you going to scream?" Malfoy drawled. "Because I would really rather you not do that. My head is pounding. I'm not sure if Lisa knows how to brew a potion, but Merlin." He shook his head.

Hermione scrambled to her knees, leaning over the tub and picking up his arm gingerly. The events of the night slammed into her, sucking the breath out of her. "It's healed." She didn't so much as think before she ran her fingertips over the Dark Mark, now fully intact once more, and just as dark as it ever was. "Oh, thank Merlin."

He scowled. "You'll understand that I'm not as happy about that."

She looked up at him, dropping his hand as he stared at her. "I'm so sorry."

Malfoy shook his head. "Are you deaf? Padma told you I didn't blame you. If anything—"

"No!" Hermione said too loudly as tears pricked her eyes. "I was wrong, and I've been wrong. I'm just as bad as Leanne for worrying you would do something terrible."

His hand curled into a fist. "I won't lie to you and say it's not upsetting." Malfoy ran his fingers through his hair, attempting to slick it back and sighing when it fell back into his face. "This wasn't your fault. I was thinking about the war. About after. About how no matter what I do, it's probably never going to be enough for the good witches and wizards of Great Britain."

"That's not true." Hermione spoke in hushed tones, crossing her legs as she looked up at him. "You're a good man."

He laughed. "Am I? I'm the man who watched you writhe on my drawing room floor. I watched my own aunt carve you up while she laughed, and you soiled yourself. Do you remember how I called you a Mudblood? I do. I remember the tears filling your eyes as you fought to prove to me and everyone else that you belonged in our world. And I've never told you, and I'll deny I have if you ever mention it, but you belong here more than anyone else." He continued, and it was as if he was talking to himself more than to her.

She was silent, her fingers trembling as she clutched the edge of the tub. "Malfoy—"

"I remember when you became Prefect, and you were overcome with happiness. I was with Parkinson on the train, and I told her a little Mudblood like you would be put in their place when the Dark Lord won."

"Why are you telling me this?"

He smiled, not unkindly, and a chill unfurled on her spine. "You seem to think I'm a good man. I'm not."

If he weren't possibly still injured, Hermione would have stuck him. She crawled onto her knees, leaning over the tub without breaking eye contact. From the corner of her eye, she could see the blood stained in the bottom of the tub, and she absently wondered why he had never moved. She would ask him later. "You're wrong," Hermione snarled.

His eyes flashed at the sound, and his fingers curled around her forearm. His thumb brushed her own scar, tracing the _M_ that he knew was there. "Fuck you, Granger. What do you know about me? I understand you have a complex, but I thought it was Potter's complex to save the world. You can't save everyone in it as well."

Her nostrils flared. "I don't want to save everyone."

"Don't you?"

"I want to save you," she said quietly.

His eyes snapped to hers. "A terrible idea, really."

"I don't think you're the man you've described at all, Malfoy. You're the boy that watched in fear of a war that held the power to rip your family apart. I think you did what you had to do to survive, and I was a fool to think that made you dangerous."

His fingers tightened around her wrist. "Make no mistake—I am dangerous, Granger."

She took a deep, shuddering breath. "You're the man who I drank firewhiskey with in the middle of the night. You're the man who rushed to catch me from falling into the lake. When my boyfriend, a man that you entirely loathe, dumped me, you offered me comfort. And even though you're a man who hates who he is,, you're also the man who told a little boy jokes as you carried him, and you are _still_ the man who rushed into a deadly storm to save me." Her voice rose with each word, growing more and more confident as she leaned forward.

"You haven't always felt that way," he murmured, his eyes dropping to her neck. "In fact, it's a recent development. Don't lie to spare my feelings. You never wanted me here, and you never will."

"I want you here." Silence stretched between them as she reached up, hooking a finger through the chain and ripping it off of her neck. "Padma cornered me after you came back with Oliver. She was right. I was a hypocrite. I testified at your trial, and I...I was wrong. So incredibly wrong that I'm not sure how I can ever make it up to you."

He was silent for a long moment as she held the charm out to him. "I can't say I care for your apology. I don't know for certain if it's because you regret it or not."

Hermione nodded. "Whatever it will take for you to see how deeply I regret it," she breathed, her shoulders falling as she met his gaze squarely. "I will do it."

"Are you so sure about that?" he asked. "If so, grab my wand."

With a non-verbal _Accio_ , Hermione held her hand out as his wand shot into it. She handed it to him. "What do you plan to do?"

"Aunt Bella taught me Legilimency."

Hermione's hands were sweating as she stared at him. _Legilimency._ It wasn't surprising. "Will you only look at memories of tonight?"

His fingers gripped his wand lazily as he nodded. "I have no desire to dig through your mind. Your memories are your own."

She squared her shoulder, swallowing hard. "Alright."

"You're serious?" he asked, incredulous. "Granger, why the fuck would you let me—"

She clapped a hand over his mouth, ignoring the narrowing of his eyes as she did so. "Whether you choose to still _like me_ ,"— _it wasn't the right word,_ she thought—"after you see how terribly sorry I am for my prejudices, you still deserve to know that you aren't a monster."

A heartbeat passed before he said anything. "What did Padma say to you?"

"I'll let you see it," Hermione whispered. "But I have a question."

"Of course you do. Go on, then."

"Where are Padma and Lisa?"

He looked to the doorway over her shoulder. "Padma was exhausted. I told the pair of them to sleep in their cabins."

A frown twisted her lips. That didn't explain why she was still there. "And why didn't you send me to my cabin as well?" Hermione could remember, just barely, that she had fallen asleep as Malfoy swallowed a Calming Draught. "Why am I still here?"

He shrugged. "I suppose I didn't want to be alone. You don't talk nearly as much as Padma," Malfoy said, rolling his wand between his fingers. "I wanted to talk to you."

She wasn't sure what to say or what to think of that. He gave her little time before he raised his wand and said steadily, " _Legilimens."_

During the war, Snatchers had used Legilimency on her before dumping her on the floor of Malfoy Manor. She knew just how unpleasant it could be at the hands of an enemy. There was no pounding in her head, no violent ripping through her memories as if she were a test subject. While she hadn't expected Malfoy to treat her as such, Hermione was surprised.

She wouldn't have known he was in her head unless he'd told her.

He started at the memory during the flying lesson, and he smirked as he recognized the way he'd affected her by being so hands-on. _Fuck_.

"I heard that," he mused.

It shifted into the same moment she had replayed over and over again for hours by the lake. Michael rushed in, accusations flying. He saw Hermione draw her bottom lip between her teeth as she held up her necklace and explained the charm. And he saw the crippling guilt as she realized what she had done.

He didn't linger on the thought.

She wondered if he believed her at all.

He clenched his jaw as he watched the confrontation with Padma in the kitchen, muttering that the witch didn't have the right to speak to Hermione that way on his behalf.

Hermione would have disagreed; she would have told him how Padma saw him as a brother, and she only wanted to protect him. There were several things she could have said, but a stray thought crept into her mind. It was due to the sight of the scar on her arm, and suddenly, all too quickly, Malfoy Manor was around her.

She was screaming.

Malfoy ripped back away from her as if he'd been burned by a hot iron. Heavily breathing, he stared as she fell back into the tile floor, her grip slipping from the tub. "I didn't mean for that to happen," he blurted.

"Of course not," Hermione agreed. "I didn't mean to think of it. I should go."

He grabbed her arm. "Could you stay?"

Her mouth was dry as he asked her for the second time. "Why?" she croaked.

"Is it so hard to believe that I don't want to be alone?" he muttered miserably, dragging a hand down his face. "It's fine. Go."

"You should get out of the tub," Hermione told him. "It can't be that comfortable to sleep in."

Malfoy blinked. "I wasn't intending to sleep." Nevertheless, he rose from the tub and followed her into his bedroom.

Hermione opened the drawers, pulling out a pair of silk bottoms and a matching top. She handed them to him. "You should be comfortable, Malfoy. You've been through quite the ordeal tonight. I'll turn around."

It might have been one of the only times he'd ever laughed so loudly around her, or was it at her? Still, he shook his head as he said, "You've seen it all before, Granger. No need."

He'd have muttered that she was a prude if she had turned around, so she didn't. Seeing his bare chest didn't matter—not when it had been easily one of the most taxing nights of her life. "I'll stay." She cringed at the authority in her voice. "If you still want me to."

He patted the mattress beside him. "Have a seat, Granger."

Hermione carefully crawled onto the four poster bed, sitting with her legs crossed. She sat directly across from him, her hands folded in her lap. "I'm so sorry."

"Please don't cry," he said quietly.

She wiped her eyes furiously. "I'm not." Her voice told a different story, cracking as it did. "Okay, I might be."

"You were crying when you found me."

She fidgeted with a loose sheet on the blanket. "How could I not? I was terrified we would lose you, and I would never—" Hermione cut herself off, mentally berating herself. This wasn't about her.

He was, unfortunately, curious. "You would never what?"

She shook her head. "It's not important."

As if he wasn't terribly cross with her at the moment, he tilted her head up by placing one finger beneath her chin. "Humor me."

Hermione whispered, hot tears stinging her eyes. "I would have never forgiven myself if you had died. That's selfish to say, though, when this isn't about me. I just wanted you to live, and I wanted the chance to tell you I was a fool."

He moved, and she thought he was going to hug her. Only that wouldn't have been like him. Malfoy's hand found hers, and he threaded their fingers together. "I'm not sure what to tell you. I don't blame you for this. You _were_ a bitch, and Padma might want to paint you as the only villain, but that's naivety at best. You were tortured in my home and tormented by me for years. Why wouldn't you be worried?"

"Maybe at the beginning," Hermione murmured, her thumb tracing the heart line of his palm. "But then you were different. Kind at times, even though it was often skewed and set off course with backhanded comments. It's quite clear to me now that you are nothing like I expected, and I've done you a disservice by thinking otherwise."

He held up his hand, the chain spiralling from it as the pendant swung from side to side between them. "You should keep this for your peace of mind. I suggest glamouring it lest you want Padma to—"

She shook her head. "I don't need it. I would even go as far to say that I never did."

His voice was quiet, a low rumble from his chest, and Hermione didn't have the courage to look at him. "She said you were as bad as the rest of them. She was wrong." Her finger hovered above his palm, stopping in place. "But you believe her, don't you?" Malfoy sighed.

Her shoulders fell, and she felt incredibly small, trapped in place. "Of course I believe her," she finally said. "Why shouldn't I? Leanne and Michael, they've always been clear with their distrust of you. I thought of you as my friend—I still do—and all the while, I had a fail-safe. I regret it. I regret that it could be the smallest part of the reason you chose to take a weapon to yourself."

He exhaled a harsh breath. "Granger—Hermione, look at me—"

Her head snapped up. It was unlike him to use her first name, and yet it slid off his tongue so easily.

"There are a lot of reasons for it, and I'm not in the mood to discuss all of my failures with you tonight. One thing that should be absolutely clear is that no matter what had happened, it wouldn't have been your fault. It's my choice. Maybe you could have been part of the reason, which is unfair to say as well, but it could never be your fault."

She couldn't agree—not with the guilt in her stomach threatening to suffocate her. "I'm terrified out of my wits that I will find you lying in a pool of blood tomorrow morning. Or maybe it would be the day after, or the week after. But with each time I look at you, it's all I can think of." Hermione's eyes watered. "Fuck, I just want to Apparate to St Mungo's with you so you can have proper help. You might never forgive me, but I would rather know you were alive and angry with me."

"I will look into therapy _myself_ after the summer concludes."

Hermione didn't like the sound of that, either. "That's not enough, Malfoy. Anything could happen between now and then."

To her surprise, he wasn't even a little bit angry with her. "I don't much care for dying, I realized while I was waiting for you to wake up. Not really. What good would it do me to give in?"

"I can't—"

He held a finger to her lips, just hovering a breath away from her mouth. "I know. It's probably impossible to believe me, but I am willing to make a promise." Taking his wand into his hand once more, he cast a whispered, " _Reparo,_ " on the necklace she had broken. He dropped his wand and pressed the pendant into her palm. "Your charms are gone. Instead, if I attempt to harm myself, you'll know."

She closed her hand. It wasn't enough, she thought, not when he needed professional help, but it was a start. Wasn't it? "I knew when you were hurt," she said quietly. "I didn't know it would work that way. It was a coincidence, one that I'm so grateful for. If you feel the way you did tonight, will you talk to someone? Not me, obviously—"

"—Granger,"

"— but Padma or Lisa, perhaps?"

"You're overthinking." He smirked. "I might be cross with you, but all friends are bound to have a row from time to time. You just happened to fuck up worse than others. It's fine. You can make it up to me."

She thought it was silly how the word _friends_ rattled around inside of her head, and how it filled her with hope. "Malfoy?"

A genuine smile curved his lips. "What is it?"

"If you're serious about being friends, or giving me another chance, which _really_ , I'm thankful for," she rambled.

"Get to the point, Granger."

She glared at him as she brought one knee to her chest. "My friends call me Hermione, or 'Mione, but I'm not too fond of the nickname."

His nose crinkled as he mulled it over. "But you're Granger." At her exasperated sigh, he raised his hands in defeat. "Don't expect me to say it in front of everyone else."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I would never."

"Well, _Hermione_ ," he paused, "I have a bottle of Firewhisky still. No?" he asked as she shook her head.

"Absolutely not." She laughed. "Anything but that."

"Flying?"

She found she didn't much feel like denying him, especially if the sight of her falling made him laugh at all.

* * *

When he mounted the broom himself, motioning for her to slide onto in front of him, her voice was stuck in her throat.

"Come on. Haven't I already proven to you that I won't let you fall?" he rumbled.

Well, when he put it that way, she supposed that he had. "You've proven a lot of things." she murmured, and he did not reply.

He stayed close to the ground, chuckling under his breath when she latched onto the broom.

There was something to be said about watching the sunrise as colour painted the sky. And she might have told him something, but as she caught the content expression on his face, she found there was nothing she could say.

* * *

 **I would be oh so happy if you could leave me a comment with your thoughts.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Welcome to Chapter Nine. We have like eleven left, or something like that.**

 **All mistakes are my own, or due to Grammarly. Thank you to the DFW chat for helping me with the spellwork, and extra thank you to msmerlin giving me the exact situation I used. Thank you to mhcalamas for alpha reading the action scene that nearly made me throw my laptop.**

* * *

Three days passed, and they passed slowly. After a short chat before breakfast the morning after Draco had nearly died, Hermione and Padma were on much better terms. Hermione still insisted she was terribly sorry. Through what she could only assume was Draco's meddling, Padma had apologised as well.

It was a bright spot in an otherwise dreary day. In the following three days, they had been subjected to fierce thunderstorms, but at least it was nothing like the storm she'd been trapped in before. The children didn't bother with charms to keep themselves dry, instead running outside through various puddles and splashing one another.

Hermione liked to be bundled up when it was her turn to watch them, shouting wildly that they couldn't just take a dip in the Great Lake whenever the felt like it. A hand settled on her shoulder, and she glanced up to see Draco towering over her, but not actually looking at her.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"Let them have their fun." He shrugged his shoulders and turned her back toward camp. "Lisa was looking for you earlier. I'll watch them while they swim."

Hermione refused, whirling back around and falling back into step with him. Her shoulder bumped his as they trekked down the now beaten path, and she couldn't drum up anything worthwhile to say.

"Morning delivery for letters came while you were down here. I told Lisa I'd give you this whenever you refused to take a break."

He handed her a parcel, her name written across the front of it, and her heart dropped at the sight of it. It was unmistakably Ron's handwriting. The man at her side must not have noticed her apprehension. "If you knew I would refuse, why did you still try to send me back?"

He finally did glance down at her, coming to a stop at the forest's edge. "Sometimes you surprise me, Gr—Hermione."

The corner of her lip twitched at his fumble, but she didn't comment on it. "It's a letter from Ron." She didn't know why she was telling him. Maybe Draco was her friend now, something that she'd been wondering how Harry and Ron would respond to, but that didn't mean he wanted to hear about this.

Draco surprised her by stilling just before they stepped onto the dock, his gray eyes searching hers for something; she wasn't sure what. "Do you think he has anything to say that you want to hear?" He finally asked.

Oliver shouted, "Oi, no splashing, MacDougal!"

Hermione's head snapped up. Sure enough, Isobel was in the water, a shirt covering her top half as well as swimming bottoms. A wide smile graced her features, and the young girl only splashed Oliver once more.

"Has she ever really taken part in activities before?" Hermione asked breathlessly. "Hannah said that she's slept easier ever since she took her to a healer."

"She's played Exploding Snap with some of them, but," Draco cleared his throat. "Back to Weasel."

She sighed. "Do you have to call him that?"

"There are several names I could call him, but Weasel is probably the best one out of them all." Draco slid his hands into his pockets, leaning back on his heels as he looked back to the children. He'd taken the time to cast an _Impervius_ charm, as had she. "What do you think he has to say for himself?"

Hermione didn't know. Maybe he had written to her in an awkward attempt to steer their friendship back on track. She feared it might be to tell her made a mistake in breaking things off.

"You're having an entire conversation that I'm not privy to," Draco cut in, grinning as her cheeks heated up. "What are you thinking?"

Hermione followed him down the dock, sitting at the edge and dangling her feet off the edge. "It could be anything, but I'm worried it's to tell me that he would like to give things another go."

His feet, clad in canvas style shoes, skimmed the top of the water. Draco stared at the scene in front of him, a smile creeping onto his face with Oliver dunked Henry. "Do you want that?" His voice was so low that she wasn't sure if she'd heard correctly over the waves rolling below them.

"No," Hermione said. "Maybe I would have thought I did immediately after he dumped me via owl. Since we've had some space between us, and I've had time to think, I know that a relationship between the two of us would never work well."

He nodded, sliding his fingers through his hair. "I'm curious. Everyone expected the two of you to end up together,"

She scoffed. "Yes, because they were too busy romanticizing the end of the war than they were for preserving the memories of those lost."

Draco continued as if she'd never interrupted him, something he was beginning to get rather good at. "How did it happen?"

Hermione looked to him, sighing heavily. "In the middle of Chamber of Secrets during the Final Battle. Tensions were high, and Ron said we needed to save the house elves. I just...flung myself at him. House Elf rights were— _are—_ important to me, and the fact that he even remembered meant something to me."

He laughed loudly, turning several heads. "House Elves," he muttered under his breath, still chuckling. "Most witches would like flowers or jewellery, but you want to save the house elves."

Hermione flushed. She gripped the letter tightly, still staring down at it. "I'm not most witches." She mumbled.

Draco nodded. "You're not, and I'll deny it if you ever say anything, but maybe that's a good thing."

She wasn't sure what to make of that statement at all. "Okay, I'll just open it and get it over with. It's just a letter." She talked to herself, drawing her legs up and crossing them under her. Hermione tore the seal, her eyes widening as she read the first line.

 _Hermione,_

 _I know I should have owled sooner, and I ought to have spoken to you in person, but please don't throw this letter out. I need you to read it, and I need you to make sure your wards are still safe._

Draco shuffled closer to her as she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "What is it?" He peered over her shoulder, holding the parchment when her hands began to shake.

 _Harry and I aren't meant to be in the field yet, but there was an attack in the middle of Diagon Alley early this morning. We were woken and they made the decision for us to go into thick of it, due to...well, you know. Harry is fine. I was hit by a nasty crucio, but St Mungo's released me within an hour._

 _There are several Death Eaters still on the loose, and I know you don't need anyone to tell you that you may be in danger. The head auror is probably going to send aurors to Hogwarts, to you, and they're likely to stay until we've rounded up the Lestranges at the least._

 _Rodolphus Lestrange is loose, and 'Mione, he mentioned you. I know Mum was the one to kill Bellatrix, but he's fixated on you now._

 _Stay safe. Write to me, or send a Patronus if there's anything I can do. I know you must be angry with me, at least a little, but I'll be there as soon as I can if the wards are breached._

 _Love, Ron._

All the colour had drained from her face as she looked up to the children still playing in the water. The rain had let up by then, and Draco took the letter from her hand.

"Hermione," he swallowed. "Are you alright?"

She shook her head, springing to her feet with her wand gripped tightly in her hand. "I need to reinforce the wards. Watch them, will you?" said Hermione, her voice hard. There was a coldness to it, one that she hadn't heard since she'd been barreling through a war with one goal in mind. "I'm going to let Hannah, and Michael know. Probably Lisa and Padma as well, though I'll keep the information from Leanne. You know she'd react badly."

He hastily climbed to his feet, crumpling the letter in his hand. "Wait just a minute. You need to take a second to breathe."

She ripped away from his outstretched hand. "I need to check the wards." She repeated. "I haven't noticed anything, but...I couldn't live with myself if anything happened. This summer camp has been all over the Daily Prophet. If he's really looking for me, he'll know where I am. Fuck!" Hermione whispered harshly under her breath. "I'm going to look into whether or not I can perform a Fidelius Charm."

She stormed up the dock, clenching her hands into fists as she ignored the frenzied footsteps behind her. He reached for her, catching her by the elbow, and steadying her when she stumbled over the loose board on the dock. It splintered beneath her foot, falling into the water below. "I need to fix that."

Draco grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her slightly to bring her attention back to him. "No, what you need to do is take a minute to breathe."

She stared at him in silence, her chest rising and falling with each staggered breath. "The wards," she said weakly.

"We'll check them, alright? If Rodolphus was going to attack you, he wouldn't do it in the middle of the day."

"Dennis is a Muggleborn."

Instinctively, Draco looked over his shoulder to be sure the Gryffindor boy was still in the water. "They'll be safe."

"You can't possibly—"

"Look at me," he hissed as she began to pull away. Growling under his breath, he shouted, "Corner, come watch them!"

She looked behind them, finding that Michael was already coming toward them. He had a mug in hand as he looked between the two of them. "Everything okay down here? Hermione?"

She gritted her teeth.

Draco passed him the letter, his features pinched in annoyance. "That just came from Auror Weasley."

Hermione blinked. Had he..?

He continued, "Read it and let Abbott know, probably Lisa and Padma too since they're of age."

"Not Leanne," Hermione barked.

Michael skimmed it, his eyes widening just as hers had. He gave a terse nod, destroying the letter in his hand. "I wouldn't want any of the campers to catch wind of this. It would cause panic. Where are the two off to then?"

Draco tugged her forward, his long fingers holding her wrist in a tight grip. "We're going to start checking the wards and reinforcing them as we go. It may take a few hours."

Michael nodded, raising his cup in a mock salute. "Alright. Let me know if you need a third person."

Before she could say that she didn't even want a second person to help, Draco was dragged her into the forest. Hermione found herself with her back to a tree, well out of sight of the lake, and prying eyes. "What are you doing?"

His cruel expression softened, but he did not move from the spot as he towered over her. "Making you take a minute to yourself before you fucking combust."

She scowled. "I don't need a minute, I need to—"

"Reinforce the wards, save the world, possibly not in that order. I know the spiel, Granger."

"It's Hermione!" she snapped.

Draco ran a hand down his face, looking as if he wanted to strike her, but of course, he would never do that. "Do you realise that you don't need to do everything on your own?"

Hermione's eyes dropped to the ground, and she rolled a stick below her shoe. "If I do it myself, I'm reassured it was done correctly." She muttered. "I don't like that knowing that everyone here could be in danger because of me. I can't protect everyone here if a former Death Eater infiltrates my wards because they want me, 'Potter's Famous Mudblood Best Friend.'"

He flinched at the word. "Don't call yourself that."

"Oh, it's a word!" She threw her hands up. "Just like Voldemort, or whatever the fuck. It doesn't matter." Hermione seethed.

He shook his head. "It matters. You don't have to protect everyone either. You saddle yourself with the responsibility, but you're writing off Corner, Abbott, Padma, and Lisa." She watched as his pale hand curled into a fist. "You're writing me off as well."

"I can't expect,"

"If a Death Eater comes into this camp, they won't leave alive." Draco cut in, his expression giving nothing away. "If Rodolphus, or his brother, or anyone else comes here, they would be making a grave mistake."

There was a lump in Hermione's throat. "Not alive?" she managed. She knew what Draco meant, what the hard set of his gaze meant.

Hermione knew, but she still wanted to hear.

There was no hesitation in his reply. "I was a Death Eater as well." He didn't say anything else. He didn't need to.

"Don't risk your freedom for that," Hermione whispered.

He settled a hand on her shoulder as he had earlier, and it didn't feel reassuring at all. It felt like confirmation of his words.

* * *

They had broken off into teams of two. Hannah and Michael stayed with all of the campers, using Leanne to keep an extra eye on them. While they told the Hufflepuff girl nothing, Hermione thought it was only a matter of time before Leanne started asking questions.

Draco had looked to her after they'd found Lisa and Padma, his eyes narrowing as Hermione took a step toward Lisa. She assumed that Draco had expected them to pair up, not that it mattered in the long run, and he appeared to be disappointed when she looped an arm through Lisa's.

"Alright." Hermione cleared her throat. "Lisa and I will take the side of the camp leading all of the way to the entrance of the Forbidden Forest, and work our way back."

Draco nodded. "We'll meet you in the middle then."

And so they parted. Lisa at the very least had the good sense to wait until they were out of earshot before saying anything. "What's going on? Before you tell me there's nothing, he's looking at you a certain way."

"He is not."

Lisa scoffed. "You wouldn't know considering you were avoiding eye contact. Fine, don't tell me, but if you change your mind."

Hermione kept her thoughts to herself, of the last thing he'd said to her in the forest. It affected her terribly, remembering the hard set of his jaw and the way he'd gritted his teeth when he insisted he could hold his own. She could only hope it wouldn't come to that.

Her anxiety was not eased even when they found that nothing was wrong. Hermione layered protective charms, working side by side with Lisa as they worked their way back. It was exhausting if she were honest. It would have been a wiser idea to have more hands.

Lisa had worked beside her, mostly silent until Draco and Padma came into view hours later. "I know you're worried."

"It's hard not to be," Hermione replied quietly. Looking up, Draco was laughing, a rare sight, and she wondered what he and Padma were talking about. Had they possibly discussed _her_?

Lisa patted her shoulder. "I know, but we take care of our own. Popping into this camp would be the worst idea any Death Eater ever had."

Hermione tried to laugh with Lisa, but she couldn't quite manage it.

* * *

Leanne finally demanded an answer for all of the whispering throughout the day. After everyone had been tucked away into their cabins, save for those of age, the inevitable question came.

"What's going on?"

Hermione hadn't intended to answer at all.

Draco hardly ever listened to her anyway, however. "This morning, Aurors, including Potter and Weasley," Hermione smiled at the use of Ron's actual surname, "were attacked in the middle of Diagon by the Lestranges."

"Your family is still up to no good, it seems." Leanne sneered.

He didn't take the bait. "Rodolphus mentioned Granger by name. Weasley is certain they may try to attack her here. We spent the day fortifying the wards."

The woman's face scrunched up in anger, her eyes narrowing. "Why wasn't I told? I'm of age, just like either of them." Leanne waved toward Lisa, who sat at Hermione's side, and Padma, who sat at Draco's.

"You fly off the handle too quickly," Hermione said. "Not to mention, I was certain you would immediately accuse Draco."

"Of course he should be the first one we look at! Have you all forgotten he was a Death Eater? Have you forgotten what he's done?" She shrieked. "He let them into Hogwarts. How do we know he won't let them in here as well?"

Hermione shook her head. "It's not Draco."

"If I wanted to kill any of you, why wouldn't I have done it before now?" Draco said, and it certainly didn't help matters.

Hermione glared at him. "Leanne—"

The woman stood from the table quickly, throwing her hands up. "You're all mad."

"Where are you going?" Hannah asked. She shifted in her seat, the first time she'd offered anything to the conversation. When Leanne didn't respond, choosing to storm away instead, Hannah called out, "Don't go outside the wards!"

She shouldn't be able to go outside the wards, Hermione told them.

It was a mistake she would regret.

* * *

Like every other night, but especially that night, Hermione had levitated the vase in front of the door.

She'd heard it break in the early morning, while it was still dark outside.

Hermione's eyes shot open, widening as she tasted metallic when she bit her tongue so she wouldn't scream. Rodolphus Lestrange towered over her, his wand already stabbing into her throat.

"Hello, Mudblood." He greeted with a wide smile, reminiscent of his late wife's. His teeth were yellowed and crooked, flashing in the low light of the moon hung high outside her window.

She'd gone to sleep with her wand clenched in her hand. " _Bombarda Maxima!"_ she yelled, swishing her wand through the movements beneath the blanket.

He slammed into the wall, the frames that she'd just gotten around to hanging toppling off of the wall. Crookshanks shot out from the bathroom, diving under the bed as he meowed loudly.

Hermione ran for the door, her feet bare as she padded down the steps. She'd thought to keep her wand in hand for the night, but she hadn't thought to wear jeans instead of the flimsy sleep shorts that were too short.

"Hermione!" Lisa screamed. She hand Oliver tucked behind her with Isobel, her wand in her hand.

"Get out! Go to—" Hermione's scream cut through the camp as she fell to her knees, the pain of a _crucio_ rushing through her body. She fumbled for her wand as it rolled away from her, a spell on the tip of her tongue as her body seized under another _crucio._

She couldn't think under the curse, couldn't think long enough to summon her wand and fight back as she should have.

Still gasping for air, she could barely raise her head. It was chaos, Hermione knew, as she struggled to brace herself on her forearms. She couldn't make out faces, but children were running, likely guided by counsellors to the nearest Apparition point.

She should have let Ron, and the Aurors come. She shouldn't have assumed the wards would keep them safe. Hermione shouldn't have believed it could wait even a single day.

"Get up!" Rodolphus hissed, nearing her. The toe of his boot slammed into her side. He flipped her onto her back, grinning maniacally even then. There were shouts coming from all over the camp; some of the voices she recognised. " _Alarte Ascendare."_

Her body was thrown into the air, much higher than Lockhart had sent the snake in their second year during duelling club. There was a telltale crack that rippled through her spine when she was slammed into the ground once more. Hermione's nails dug into the dirt as she fought to catch her breath.

"I thought you would be better than this." Rodolphus snarled. "Some war hero. _Cruc—_ "

Draco yelled, " _Diffindo Maxima!"_ Panting heavily, he propped Hermione up. Draco flicked his wand, muttering, " _Expelliarmus."_ Without preamble, he snapped the wand in half, letting the pieces fall to the ground. "Can you walk?"

She didn't think she could. "Yes. Help me up."

Draco pressed her wand into her hand, pulling her to her feet. "You're wobbly."

She shook her head. "Oh, Merlin," Hermione gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth. She'd been in a war, so Hermione really ought to have been prepared for the scene in front of her.

"Blood traitor." Rodolphus bit out, glaring up at his nephew. "Saving a Mudblood now, and fighting against us? Lucius would be disgusted." The man's breathing came in shallow bursts. His ankles were sliced, blood already pooling in the dirt below him, and Hermione didn't think he would be getting up again. "Couldn't kill me then?" He pressed, glaring up at Draco.

Draco pressed a hand roughly to Hermione's back. "Move. Corner and Abbott got the kids out."

But he was wrong, completely wrong. As he steered her, keeping his eye on Rodolphus, Hermione recognised the Death Eater mask from the final battle. The swirled mask wasn't what grabbed her attention, however. Henry was clutched to the man's chest. They stood directly in front of her, and Draco held her in place so she wouldn't lunge toward the Death Eater.

"You'll have to grab him," Draco whispered in her ear, pushing her behind him roughly. It happened before she could blink. Draco's movements were frenzied, but there was little hesitation.

He used a modified levitation charm, and one of the benches, hollowed out from a large tree trunk flew through the clearing. Henry stumbled forward, his cheeks stained with tears as the man's grip loosened.

Hermione wrapped the boy up in her arms, chancing a glance at Draco. "Petrify him. We need to get out of here."

Judging from the silence of the camp, Hermione could only assume that everyone had safely Apparated into the Ministry atrium. Aurors would be there soon. There was no need for—

Climbing back to his feet, blood trickling from his mouth, Rabastan barked, " _Avada—"_

Hermione turned, baring her back for the curse to hit her as she used her body as a shield for Henry. She tucked his head beneath her chin. She ought to have run; she'd done enough evading in her life, but there was nowhere to run. Either way she went, she would be in plain sight, as would Henry.

" _Avada Kedavra!"_ Draco said smoothly. His voice didn't give away any emotion that he felt. "Aurors will be here in seconds." He told Hermione, paying no mind to the _thud_ that was a body hitting the ground.

She hadn't seen the green jet of light, but Rabastan was a heap on the ground. In the background, over the hissing wind, Rodolphus yelled obscenities. If she looked at his eyes, she would see the absence of life. "Draco…"

Draco cast a _muffliato_ around Henry alone, giving her a dark look. "I did what I had to do."

Her legs gave out from beneath her. "I know you did," Hermione whispered. He was there then, wrapping an arm around her and lifting her. Henry stayed behind Draco's back, his little hands gripping Draco's jumper. "I'm not angry that you did it."

Before he could ask her about that, there were several cracks, signalling travel by Apparition. She was horrified to see several Aurors, ones that she knew rather well. The spell was not spoken, but magical restraints circled Draco's wrists.

"No!" Hermione cried, putting herself in front of Draco while putting her arms out. "You can't arrest him. He's done nothing wrong! He saved our lives." She argued.

Auror Davis hurried toward her. "His wand alerted us, Hermione. We have no choice." Draco was taken by his shoulder, and he didn't attempt to pull away.

Henry slipped his arms around Hermione's waist. He mumbled into her chest, "Will Draco be put in Azkaban?"

Without another word, Draco vanished from her sight via Side-Along with Auror Davis.

"Come with us. They'll want you in the hearing." Another Auror, this one a woman, spoke softly. "They'll take care of the Lestranges."

Her mind was spinning. Draco had saved her life, Oliver's life. He'd told her in so many words earlier in the day that he could offer a layer of protection. Her breathing was ragged as her arms tightened around Henry. She couldn't offer him an answer to his question due to her own fears.

Azkaban?

"He saved our lives." She breathed.

The inevitable response came. "He used the Killing Curse. He could have used any other—"

She whirled on the woman, stabbing her wand into the woman's throat. "Maybe you could think of another spell on the spot, given your training, given your own loyalties that never changed. Draco was forced into servitude to the Dark Lord. He _was_ a Death Eater. When that man put his wand on me with every intention of slaughtering me where I stood, Draco reacted in the only way he knew how."

Rodolphus cackled. "I'll tell you all about his time as a Death Eater. He was good with torture, that one. I'd say he developed a taste for it."

Hermione Apparated with Henry before the man could say anything more.

* * *

 **This chapter was fucking hard to write. I'm still not completely pleased with it, but if I tweak it anymore I will tear my hair out. I'd love to hear what you have to think. In the beginning I thought this would be a nice, sweet story.**

 **Clearly I was wrong, given the last few heavy chapters. It eases up soon. I've finished the writing process of Wanderlust, so now I'm mostly focusing on finishing this.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Another update! I'm hoping to keep them pretty steady as I'd like to finish this within the next six weeks or so, but I make no promises. It's my primary focus now though. I'd like to say that even though I have an outline, I am mostly flying by the seat of my pants on this. As such, I don't truly have an alpha so I'm never fully pleased with the chapters.**

* * *

Hermione landed in the atrium with a loud _crack!_ with Henry nestled into her side. His head was resting against her chest as his body shook with loud sobs. "Draco," he cried, and Hermione rubbed soothing circles in his back. "What about Draco?" Henry whimpered.

The atrium was swimming with Aurors, and on the other side of the room, she recognised Lisa and Padma, and then everyone else. She ushered Henry off to the familiar faces, watching him sprint across the floor and slam into Adelaide with a ferocious hug.

There was a sniveling behind her. Hermione turned, her heart still beating wildly in her chest as she adjusted to her surroundings, to the fact that they were no longer in immediate danger. Her gaze fell upon Leanne, whose face was stained with makeup that had run from tears. "Were you hurt?" Hermione asked. She quickly looked Leanne over, checking her arms, and her face.

Her eyes were rimmed with red, completely bloodshot as her shoulders fell. "It was—" Leanne's voice was raw, likely from screaming, Hermione realised. "It was my fault Death Eaters were able to enter the camp."

She swallowed, and one, two, three seconds passed by before Hermione would allow herself to say anything for fear she would strike the witch. "What do you mean?" She asked, her voice tight. She continued to look Leanne over, finding no visible wounds as she did so.

Leanne pulled away from her, running her hands down her face in shame. "I was where the Great Lake meets the Forbidden Forest. I didn't mean to venture outside the wards, I didn't mean—"

If it were possible for her heart to stop in her chest, Hermione was certain it would have. "Tell me what happened." She knew that water could have an adverse effect on magic, though it wasn't often. Realistically, she knew if what she thought happened was the truth it probably wasn't Leanne's fault.

It didn't mean that she didn't want to throttle her just so she would have someone to blame. But she needed to be better than that.

The girl eyed her warily, biting her lip so hard that she might bloody it. "I was by the edge of the lake, sitting there, and there was a whispering to my side. It was coming from the forest on the other side of the wards. I moved to go back to camp, but everything is blurry after that. I remember the older one talking to me, stringing me along through the camp. And Malfoy—he let me out of the spell. He gave enough time for me to escape."

Leanne broke down into tears, her legs giving out from under her. Hermione sank to her knees, wrapping her arms around her shoulders even though all she wanted to do was blame the witch. It could have happened to anyone, but Leanne's state of mind must have been part of the reason she was so susceptible to _Imperio._

Her forehead rested against Hermione's shoulder. "I think he saved me life." She mumbled, shaking her head. "Why would he do that? I've been terrible to him."

Hermione sighed. "I would say the hatred isn't mutual, Leanne. I think he saved a lot of us tonight, and it's our turn now. They can't ignore us if we tell them the truth." She hoped they wouldn't, at the very least. If they tried to… Well, she'd think about that if it came down to it. "Can you do that?"

She nodded, murmuring a broken agreement under her breath.

* * *

He was prepared, from the second he spotted Death Eater masks in the middle of the night, to be thrown in Azkaban. Either they would say he conspired to help his former comrades—a laughable title at best—or they would try him now for using the Killing Curse.

Draco sat in the chair in the middle of the Wizengamot, his ankles and wrists bound to the uncomfortable chair as he stared down familiar faces. His father's seat, or what had been the Malfoy seat was not only missing, it had been completely removed. Considering he would have never taken it, he didn't much care. It was only a reminder of what had happened, of how the world had drastically changed.

They prepared to begin the session, and Draco doubted it would last long. He'd barely made it out of the chamber last time, and considering he wouldn't have Potter's testimony this time, he wasn't hopeful.

He tapped his fingers against the wooden arm of the chair.

A gavel came down, echoing throughout the room and both barristers behind him rose to their feet. He recognised the woman who would be insisting he be given the maximum sentence in Azkaban. She wore not so flattering robes, and her mousy brown hair was pulled back so tightly that it stretched her wrinkled features. It did nothing for her appearance.

Chief Warlock, Tiberius Ogden, regarded Draco with a harsh look, his lip curling into a sneer as he waited. In a show of what was the modern day bureaucracy Draco found himself in, they'd forgone a jury.

Once Granger got wind of that, she would throw a fit, he had no doubt. He wished she'd just stay out of it, at least attempt to keep her name in good standing. Paying no mind to where he was, Draco simply could not forget how he hadn't wanted to look at her after casting the Killing Curse. He wasn't ashamed. He'd done what he had to do, and he'd done it for _her,_ but he didn't need to see the fear enter her eyes.

Sure, Henry had been in her arms, tucked away tightly as she acted as a human shield. Taking the time to think about it, Draco wasn't sure that his thoughts would have immediately jumped to murder if the wand had been trained on Henry. Something brutal instead, of course, but seeing Granger on the ground, so fucking ready to lose her life like the reckless Gryffindor she was, something inside of him had so clearly snapped.

He didn't regret it, and he wouldn't apologise for it. Perhaps he didn't understand the clusterfuck of it all, how he had grown so close to her, or how his only thought had been to protect what was his, as if she were _his_. If he would be thrown into Azkaban, then at least he knew she hadn't been disgusted by his actions at the very end.

She'd stared at him, her pale lips parted in shock as she looked down at Rabastan. She'd taken a miniscule step toward him, as if she wanted to pull him into a tight embrace. All the while she'd told him she wasn't angry, that she'd understood though maybe not in so many words.

So when she was led into the room, he wanted to scream at her to leave, that she didn't need to save him now.

It's not like she would have listened to him anyway.

* * *

Hermione was led down the corridor by a team of Aurors. They were silent, offering nothing of their opinions, and that was for the best. She needed to save her fight for inside of the hearing, and she couldn't do that if she was brawling in the middle of the corridor on the lowest level of the Ministry.

She squared her shoulders, and raised her chin as a seat of wide double doors were opened for her. To her disappointment, even though she wasn't surprised, there was no jury. Draco was seated in the middle of the room, bound to a chair as that was how they treated all who were accused of law breaking.

"Miss Granger," Chief Warlock Ogden's voice echoed in the chamber. He eyed her with contempt as she was ushered into a seat five feet away from Draco. "I wasn't aware you would be joining us."

Undoubtedly not, considering at the end she'd made a plea to Kingsley to allow her to testify. "I've submitted my memories as evidence." She said clearly, clasping her hands in her lap.

"Evidence of what?" The wizard asked.

She wanted to roll her eyes. "Draco Malfoy acted in the self defence of himself, and others tonight." Hermione began, and she ignored the sniggering that followed. "I understand that he broke the conditions of his parole—"

"Broke?" A stern woman echoed, whose name Hermione did not know. The prosecutor came to stand in front of Hermione, her robes billowing behind her. "This is not just a simple case of breaking the parameters of his parole, Miss Granger. That would imply that perhaps he's just made a trip down to Knockturn Alley, and bought an unsavory book, the likes that deal with Dark Magic. He took a life."

Hermione cleared her throat. "He took Rabastan Lestrange's life to save myself and Henry Nott. Lestrange was already halfway through the Killing Curse when Draco cast it himself. There was no time to react."

The prosecutor swept away from Hermione with a flourish, and a snide smile curving her lips. "All that statement proves is that Mr Malfoy is what he's always been, someone who is sympathetic to the former Dark Lord."

"His name is Voldemort." Hermione snapped. It was delightful to watch the colour drain from the woman's face. "And if you still refer to him by titles he bestowed upon himself because you are unable to speak his name, perhaps you shouldn't speak of him at all."

The woman's features twisted, her lips dragging down into a grimace. "Let's see the memories, shall we then? This is a court of law, and we are only fair."

Watching the memories, displayed across the air was a different experience than having lived it. The trepidation in the pit of her stomach is all too familiar as she saw herself twist to protect Henry. But her attention is grabbed by the awed look on Malfoy's face at that exact moment, and she saw the very second he knew what he was going to do.

And for a second time, there was no hesitation as he waved his wand. There was a jet of green light that burst from the tip of her wand, and she couldn't miss the way he was staring at her until she glanced up. He averted his gaze then.

She'll need to revisit the emotions written across his features that no one else will take note of.

"There was no hesitation. He's a cold blooded—" The woman began, waving a hand toward Malfoy.

They didn't understand and she was desperate to make them see reason. "He was trained as a Death Eater." Hermione cried out. "He was trained to think a certain way, and it's not so simple to banish that mentality! He didn't hurt an innocent citizen; he saved _my life_."

There was silence, and uncomfortable shuffling in the Wizengamot. Then came the murmuring, low where she couldn't hear a word they said. She wanted to look to Draco, but she kept her gaze straight ahead. There would be plenty of time to analyze his reactions once this was over.

"He fought against Death Eaters, and it's clear where his loyalties lie. Don't you see? If you sent him to Azkaban, you would be sentencing him to death! Those still sympathetic to Voldemort would kill him within the week."

She expected a cold reply of how that was not the problem of the Wizengamot, but it never came. Really, Hermione expected more than the ten minutes she received in the room.

However, Chief Warlock Ogden waved his hand to have her removed from the room, while saying he would take her words into consideration. HIs tone was that of mocking, and it did nothing to instill confidence in her.

* * *

Hermione waited in the atrium once more, Lisa and Padma on either side of her. Their charges, since Michael and Hannah were now waiting to testify as well, were in the middle of a game of Exploding Snap. Aurors had offered to take them back to their makeshift summer home now that it had been fortified once more, and cleaned up of debris, but they refused.

They wanted to leave when Draco left. Hermione was scared of what might happen if he wasn't released, if he didn't return with him.

Padma was tightly gripping Hermione's hand. For the hundredth time, she asked, "Did it seem likely they would let him go?"

Hermione didn't mind how many times the girl asked her. She just wished she could give a different answer. She shook her head. "Not to me, but I'm hopeful."

"Feels like there's a hole where your heart should be, doesn't it?" Padma asked quietly, squeezing her hand. "This isn't the best time, but I'm sorry for attempting to push you away from him."

Hermione shook her head again, her mind still swimming through every moment Draco had been involved with that summer so far. "I would have done the same. I don't blame you."

Padma sighed. She leaned her head on Hermione's shoulder. "He won't blame you if they do sentence him. He knew what he was doing, not matter how quickly it happened."

"If I had—"

"Don't say it." Lisa said, weary. "No matter what happens, Draco made a choice tonight, and you're not at fault for anything that happens."

Padma quickly added, "I won't blame you either."

Hermione was still drowning in her own self pity and regret. She could have done more. She had been utterly useless in a fight for the first time in her life, and now…

"Draco wouldn't have been able to live with himself if you had died in front of him." Padma whispered as she watched the children. "He's already lost his mum, and he—just trust me. Draco could not have been able to withstand watching you die too."

Someone shouted her name from across the atrium, and Hermione glanced up to see Ron and Harry rushing toward her. She quickly separated from the girls to make her way to both of them. Ron enveloped her in a hug that was much too tight, and he picked her right up off the floor.

Harry was looking her over, gripping her jaw gently as he saw the bruise on her cheek. "We came as soon as they would let us." Harry said. "What's going on?"

Hermione told them everything, leaving out just how close she and Malfoy had become even though they would know soon regardless. "He's still in the hearing. We're waiting to know if he'll be released."

"Can't imagine they'll release him, even if he did save your life." Ron said. "I mean, he's a bloody Death Eater."

She glared at him. "He's a _former_ Death Eater."

Ron reached for her. "'Mione—"

Hermione pulled away from him. "No, don't touch me. After everything, you still believe that Slytherins are inherently evil?"

"Maybe not _all_ of them," Ron stumbled over his words. "But even you have to admit that he's a slimy git who—"

"He's my friend." Hermione said, ignoring how her friends stared at her. One would think she'd grown two heads. "And a close friend at that. I support him, and if you can't even attempt to see things differently, then—"

Harry cut her off. "He's your friend?" His tone was incredulous. "I understand that maybe you two have been forced to work together for the last month, but this is still the same person who bullied us all through Hogwarts."

"I haven't forgotten, and neither has he."

Ron scoffed. "Oh, let me guess. The two of you have talked about that too? Did he apologise and make it all better? He's called you a Mudblood more times than I can count, Hermione. You can't possibly be friends with him."

Her eyes narrowed. "Yes, we did discuss it actually."

"How did that go?" Harry asked slowly, casting a dark look to Ron as he elbowed their friend in the ribs. "What brought that conversation on?"

"He tried to cut the Dark Mark out of his arm." Hermione admitted, though very quietly. There were several reporters on the other side of the atrium, and she would not be the cause of Draco having even more troubles if— _when_ —he was released. "He nearly died."

It shouldn't have surprised her when Ron muttered, "Shame he didn't," under his breath.

Hermione smacked him without thinking, the loud smack drawing attention to the three of them. "Don't," she warned, her voice a low hiss.

There was a tugging on her shirt from behind her, followed by a weak, "Miss Granger." Henry was standing behind her, Adelaide and Isobel waiting just beyond his back. "They're not sending Draco to Azkaban."

She missed Ron's harsh exhale behind her.

"What?" Hermione breathed. With her heart hammering in her chest, she ought to be sure she'd heard correctly before she let herself get her hopes up. "They're releasing him?"

Isobel nodded quickly, pointing toward the other side of the atrium. Reporters were bunched in a crowd, but she quickly spotted a head of white blond hair. Padma was beside him, grinning ear to ear, and she caught Hermione's attention.

Padma waved her forward, mouthing, "Come on."

Hermione turned to Ron, and Harry. "I have to go. We'll talk later?"

Ron reached out for her. "Wait!" He called, his hand waving through empty air where she'd just been. "'Mione, I don't think,"

She hurried away from him, nearly running across the tile floor in her pajamas that didn't hide nearly as much as she would have liked. Padma was grinning as Hermione slid to a stop in front of them.

Padma threw an arm around Draco's shoulders, rustling his hair. It was a display that stopped Hermione just before she would have reached out. "Come on," Padma said loudly.

She grabbed Hermione's wrist, tugging her into them. Hermione slipped against the tile, a terribly clumsy move, and she was caged against Draco's chest. Hermione peeked up at him, nibbling her lip. "I'm so glad you're okay." Hermione breathed.

It was over as quickly as it had come. Draco's fingers skimmed the bare skin where her top had ridden up, as if he were attempting to comfort her. He dropped his head down, whispering in her ear, "Are _you_ okay?"

Hermione nodded. "Shaken up, but I'll live."

She was crushed into a collective hug as Lisa and Padma locked her in with Draco. The children quickly followed. First it was Henry, wiggling in between Hermione and Lisa so he could slide his arms around Draco's waist. Then it was Oliver, and Isobel, whose eyes were watering even still.

And then it was everyone, save for Michael, Hannah, and Leanne. It was quite the scene in the middle of the Ministry, and dozens of cameras went off.

"Weasley's face matches his hair." Draco said to her. He was pressed tightly against the curve of her due to the hug they had been trapped in. "Because of me, I assume?"

She averted her eyes. "He was less than pleased to learn we were close."

Draco dipped his head. "They've just informed me that the head of my house has been transferred to me officially. I would like to visit Malfoy Manor, but I'm not able to go alone." His nose skimmed her mess of curls. "Part of my probation," he added.

Hermione blinked. "Are you asking me?"

"If it wouldn't be asking too much. I know that—"

Hermione shook her head swiftly. "It's no problem. I would like that."

He chuckled when Adelaide elbowed him in the ribs. "I'm not sure those are the words you would use, but thank you."

She wondered why he wouldn't ask Padma, who was so clearly practically family to him now. But she said nothing, content with her own reasons for it.

* * *

 **So, shocker, but no, Leanne did not just allow Death Eaters in. Lol. She'll even be lest cunty now. Next up, Malfoy Manor, and then...dramione miscommunications. I know this story got heavy quickly, and it's** _ **mostly**_ **uphill from here on out.**

 **Please let me know what you think.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello, me again. Thank you for the showering of reviews you are so kind to always give me. I look forward to seeing the next reviews. I'm not promising that the updates will continue coming this quickly, but please let me know if I need to space out my updates more if you're getting behind.**

 **Grammarly is my beta. I apologise for any mistakes, and hope you can overlook them.**

* * *

Hermione had not spared a single breath, or glance for Ron as Draco led her to the public floo. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather have Padma come along?" Hermione asked, her voice a low mutter. "Instead of me, I mean," she cleared her throat.

While he didn't look at her, his hand caught hers. His fingers slid through the spaces of hers, tugging her into the fireplace with him as they neared it. For a second time in such a short amount of time, Hermione found herself pressed to his hard chest. Catching herself by flattening her hands against his chest, a warm flush rose to her cheeks.

She knew without looking that Ron and Harry had to be staring at her, gobsmacked by her actions and the display that came with it. "So, you're sure then?" Hermione asked.

His chest shook as he rumbled a laugh, and Draco raised a hand to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. "I'm positive. Unless you would rather—"

"I'm good." Hermione said.

"Then it's settled." He looked over the top of her head, the corner of his mouth twitching and then he was smirking. "He's storming over here." Draco said as he grabbed a handful of floo powder. "Shall we?"

She nodded quickly. "Probably for the best," Hermione sighed, her shoulders tensing as Ron bellowed her name. "I don't fancy the idea of being ripped out of the floo by him, or the way he'd criticize me after."

Draco shrugged. "Perfectly fine. I'd love to see his face when I do this,"

Hermione paused, her brows rising as she asked, "Wh—"

Craning her head back, and still making no movement away from Draco, even though she really could have, she caught just how red Ron's face was. He was still yelling her name, and making rude gestures while he was at it. "Malfoy Manor!"

For how red his face has been, Ron's face all but drained of colour. Landing in a foreign fireplace, Hermione slapped Draco's chest. "He'll be worried." She muttered. "I, um," she glanced around.

The manor was not in the state she expected. During her incredibly brief stay in the looming walls over the Easter holiday that year, she'd had a moment to take in the immaculateness of it all. There was a grand staircase in the centre of the room, completed with smooth railings that stretched up to the second story, and the steps were ivory. Clearly it had not been properly cleaned since the war given the blood stains she saw.

"The Ministry had curse breakers sweep through the manor," Draco said from her side, tucking his hands into his pockets. "I'm surprised they didn't destroy the place while they were at it."

"Well, this is just one room. We haven't seen the rest." Hermione replied. She took a step forward, recognising where she was certain would lead her to the only room she truly _knew._ "Do you imagine they found many Dark objects?"

He snorted. "It's adorable that you're given me the benefit of the doubt. Yes, they found several items. If Father wasn't dead, he would have certainly been sentenced to several life terms in Azkaban."

She blinked. Her back was too him now as she turned, taking in the manor as she hadn't had much of a chance last time. "That bad?" She tugged her shorts down, making sure her arse was properly covered. A draft rolled through the manor, chilling her legs as it did. "Did they belong to your father, or the Malfoy family in general?"

"Passed down from heir to heir," he answered. "Father would have given me a gift last month on my birthday had he been alive. Thank Merlin he wasn't." He muttered darkly.

Hermione turned quickly. "Draco, don't,"

He raised his hand, effectively cutting her off. "It's fine. He was a despicable man. If it weren't for him, Mother would be alive, and I would have been set on a very different path."

Hermione wanted to ask what he thought the hypothetical path would have been, but she pushed the unrelated thought away. "He was still your father." She whispered. "Do you ever miss him at all?"

He shook his head. "For my sixteenth birthday, I was marked by Snake Face."

Her laugh was airy. "Draco,"

"But that's not the only gift I received." His body stiffened, as if he was revisiting a memory, and he glanced away from her just as she'd looked up. "It's a potion, made by a Dark Wizard before even Grindelwald. He made it to be used against Muggleborns."

Her eyes widened. "What did the potion do?"

"It would attack your magical core, depleting it slowly over several weeks. It looks just as if you've fallen ill, but effectively, what it truly does is turn you into muggle."

She gasped, the sharp noise the only sound stretching between the two of them. "That's not attacking a magical core," Hermione uttered tersely, "it's turning a magical core against the user. A muggle can't withstand magic."

Draco nodded. "My father told me I should use it when I returned for my sixth year, that I should take care to impress the Dark Lord. Murdering Harry Potter's best friend would have been a good start, he said."

"Did you… Did you ever try?" Hermione asked. She stared at the floor, afraid for the answer. Draco was a redeemed person in her eyes, and even if he were to say he'd given it careful consideration, she wasn't sure it would have angered her. "Draco?"

He was waiting for her to raise her head, staring down at her with an unreadable expression. "I had the potion on the train," Draco admitted, watching her face fall as he grabbed her wrists and tugged her forward a bit. "Even then I could have never—I destroyed the potion. Later that term, I requested my personal house elf to destroy the book which detailed how to make it.

" _He_ wanted the book when the three of you didn't return for seventh year, for reasons I don't believe I need to explain," Draco continued, his gaze flicking up to hers. "He was furious with Father when it was revealed to be missing. Of course, he found a way to recreate the potion; other families have duplicated the book in the past, but he and I were punished for the missing book."

Her eyes were watering. Hermione stared up at him, struck silent. "I'm so sorry." Her voice cracked as she uttered the words, and she blinked several times in an attempt to keep her tears at bay. "Was it terrible?"

"He didn't torture me, if that's what you're asking."

Hermione's lips parted.

"He liked to host revels, and he enjoyed seeing his cronies torture others. He'd never join in, and it was no secret how much I hated them."

Bile rose in her throat. "No." she insisted, as if the weak plea could change the past.

He nodded. "There was a muggle girl, our age, and I killed her. I cast the curse that snuffed out her life. Her boyfriend was beside her, being flayed alive by Rodolphus and Bellatrix."

She thought she might throw up from the imagery alone. "They were kidnapped together," she commented.

"Bellatrix mocked them for their idea for a date night. They were found in the middle of a field, under a sky of stars, and it's where they were left afterward."

"The muggle girl, did she suffer?" Hermione asked. She wasn't sure why she needed to know. Maybe it was to assuage the guilt that they could not save everyone, that the nameless girl deserved to be remembered, just like the boy who had died with her. "Draco, if it's too much—"

"Thorfinn Rowle raped her," he said, his voice flat, and his fingers tightened around her wrists. "There wasn't much to be done, but I cast a numbing spell. There was nothing I could do for the boy."

Hermione nodded. "That's okay."

"It's not."

Silence fell around them, tense and unyielding. Hermione traced the lines of his palm slowly, weaving the tip of her finger along the jagged scar that stretched out from his wrist. "I mean it's okay that you couldn't save her. You would have gotten yourself killed."

His lips curved into a grimace, and he wouldn't quite meet her gaze. "I sabotaged one of Rowle's missions later, caused him to fail. I reported the failure to the Dark Lord, knowing he would be tortured as a result."

"Was he?"

"Yes." There was a pause. "I would know; it fell to me to carry out the punishment as I saw fit." Draco finished, a ragged breath slipping from his mouth.

Hermione didn't feel like herself when she asked, her voice weak, "Did he suffer?"

Draco didn't answer, not at first anyway. He laid a hand on her shoulder, squeezing slightly. "It was in the file from the Ministry, wasn't it?"

She swallowed. It had been. She knew about how he'd confessed to the events under Veritaserum, claiming that it had been the reason Rowle had been so desperate to cut Draco down in the final battle. "It was, but I try not to think about the file. I wish I hadn't learned all of those things without your permission now."

His hands skimmed her arms, sliding down from her shoulders. "Yes, it's unfair to know everything about me when I seem to know nothing about you."

"I'd tell you anything you wanted to know." Hermione said. "All you needed to do was ask."

He dipped his head. "I'll ask you some day, but probably not today. Probably like you, I don't want to stay here any longer than we need to. I'm going to visit my mother's portrait. I know where it should be."

"Okay." Hermione nodded. "I'll be," she waved her hand, "somewhere."

He smirked. "Don't wander. I'm unsure of how competent the curse breakers were, and I'd rather you not walk into a grisly death." He left her with that, climbing the stairs, and taking the time to avoid the dried blood stains.

She wondered if any of them were his.

* * *

Her portrait had been crafted long before her death, and it was just as he remembered it. Walking past the empty frame as a child, but knowing that one day his mother would sit inside of it, it had always made him uneasy.

She had not been meant to find her way to the portrait for a long time he'd hoped. When the war had fallen right at the their door, riding on his father's robes, Draco had feared her life would not be exceptionally long. Lucius had been punished fiercely and frequently, the bizarre punishments stretching to his son and wife.

"My dear," Narcissa said, her voice filled with love. "Have you been eating?"

He snorted, dragging his fingers through his hair. "It's been a hellacious night, Mother. Death Eaters, and a Ministry hearing, just the normal sort of things that follow the war."

Her nose crinkled with disgust as she gazed down at him. "I thought all of that was over? You were officially pardoned, and you've been—what has happened?" In the portrait, she folded her arms over her chest, looking every bit as angry as he could imagine she was.

Draco slid his hands into his pockets, kicking the base of the wall with his shoe. "Hermione Granger created a summer camp for displaced orphans, or children whose parents are otherwise incapacitated, for whatever reason. That's where I've been."

She nodded. "I hear things, just as I overheard a few portraits discussing the new friends you've made as well."

"Are you disappointed?"

Her lip curled into a half sneer. "Of course I wish she was at least a halfblood, but what does my opinion matter, dear? I'm dead. The Mud—muggleborn girl, she's important to you now? Is she why you found yourself in a hearing all over again?"

For a moment, he considered not telling his mother a thing, knowing how she was sure to react. Draco squared his shoulders, adjusting his weight from one leg to the other as he raised his head. "Uncle Rabastan intended to kill her. I killed him myself. There's a Ministry mandated trace on my wand until my probation ends, and it alerted them the moment I cast the spell."

Seconds crept by. "You killed your—"

He shook his head. "They're not family to me."

She heaved a sigh. "I suppose I can understand that much. Does she care for you as much as you do?"

Draco looked down the corridor, wondering where she'd gone off to inside the manor. She surely hadn't stayed in one place, he was certain. "I haven't asked her, but I would think so." Draco replied. Perhaps one day he would discuss the events of the night they'd stayed up for the majority of the night, but for the moment, he wasn't keen to reveal what had gotten them there.

His mother would be terribly disappointed to know he'd wished to die.

"Are you happy?" she asked.

"Yes," he nodded, "I would say so." As he opened his mouth, a scream ripped through the manor, the sort of scream he could place immediately. "I should—I'll come—"

His mother smiled. "Hurry on, dear. The Ministry did not send the best curse breakers to vet the manor. It would be a terrible shame for her to find herself in danger."

* * *

Hermione wasn't sure why she'd done it to herself. It was painful to take in the room, immaculate as the early morning rays filtered in through the glass windows. But she'd sat in the exact spot she'd been tortured, and she'd given a soft sigh to herself as for once, the logical side of her mind lost the argument completely.

She laid in the floor, clasping hands over her stomach as she stared at the ceiling. She can see where there was a chandelier, and her throat closed up at the thought of Dobby. Dobby, who had risked his life for Harry. Then her mind wandered, dangerously, toward Ron. She remembered the day vividly, as the chandelier had crashed down, possibly going to kill her.

He'd gotten her out of the way when no one else had.

Hermione swallowed. She should fix things with him the first second she was able. They had been through several things together, her friendship with Draco Malfoy wouldn't be the one thing to finally break it.

Closing her eyes, and naively believing she could grasp just a bit of closure for herself, Hermione stretched her scarred arm out. The tile was cool against her bared arm, and fear rolled over her in suffocating waves.

She was lost to the flashback before she even had a chance to pull herself out of it.

 _She wasn't crying, not quite, but weak pleas are bubbling up. Hermione is alone, sprawled across a pretty linoleum floor as there is a weight—a terrible witch—pressing down on her chest. There was a hot sensation gliding over her arm, and she knew it was a knife without looking._

 _And she realised in horror that not only is her skin being thinly sliced, possibly into ribbons, the witch hovering above her with carving words into her forearm. "Filthy Mudblood," came a hiss._

 _Hermione knew without seeing what was being branded into her skin. She won't be ashamed of it. Harry and Ron's screams are echoing from the dungeons they had been forced into, but she can hear Ron yelling to take him instead._

 _She won't tell the truth, no matter what she's put through._

 _As the crucios begin to mount, she finally screamed, "Please, stop!" And then she was being throttled, shaken harshly._

Hermione thought it was because she remembered writhing on the floor, but there was a frenzied voice just below her ear. "Granger! Hermione, you need to snap out of it."

Her chest felt like it was caving in as she was propped up, her back against a hard surface. "Please, stop," she repeated.

Fingers brushed her sweaty hair back, and arms slid around her middle. She was aware that she was being cradled in between someone's legs, it seemed. "Come on. Come on back to me, sweetheart. It's not real, you know?"

She wheezed as she opened her eyes, finding that her fingers were digging into the arms wound securely around her. "Draco?" Hermione breathed, wiping her face. Tears were streaked down her cheeks, and she was humiliated to be found in such a state. "Can I have a moment alone?"

"Not bloody likely," he rasped beside her ear. "You scared the shite out of me."

"I don't know what happened."

"Panic attack," he said briskly. "I would have them whenever I was home for the holidays during the war. It'll pass, but you probably won't feel like yourself for a while yet." At her nod, he asked, "Would you like to leave?"

Hermione looked at the room once more. "Yes, I think that would be for the best. I can get back on my own if you would like to continue—"

"Shut up."

* * *

By the time they landed at the Apparition point just outside the wards, Hermione was dead on her feet. Draco steadied her by placing a hand at the small of her back, easily guiding her through the forest. It's by a stroke of luck that they found everyone was still asleep, despite it being the middle of the day.

It had been a long night, after all.

She leaned into the curve of his arm, her eyes fluttering shut with nearly every step. "Just a bit further," Draco murmured. He walked her right up to the door of her cabin, and when the door swung open, he saw the disarray that had been left. And not even a second passed before he steered her back down the steps. "Stay in my room."

She stared up at him with wide eyes. "Are you sure?"

He nodded, opening his own door and letting her step in ahead of him. "Sure, you take the bed. I'll take the floor." Draco took in the sight of her, even though he'd done it several times since the moment he watched her being slammed into the ground by Rodolphus.

Her hair desperately needed a good brushing. It was tangled, and there were still specks of dirt in the dark locks. She was still tugging furiously at her shorts, as they rode up with every step. He wasn't likely to complain, given the way they cupped her arse. She wore a Gryffindor quidditch top that bore the name _Weasley_ across the back, and the sight of it garnered a scowl from him.

"Don't be ridiculous," she muttered as she tied her hair up. "We can share the bed. It's just a bed."

He wanted to question whether she really thought it was _just_ a bed given the the pretty blush that crept up her cheeks and also spilt down her neck. She crawled into his bed, nestling herself against the pillows, and pulling the blanket over her.

"Alright," he said. Draco slid into the bed just beside her, his forearm brushing her back. "One of us needs to lock that door, or our sleep will be interrupted before—"

Granger let out a soft snore as she burrowed into the pillow.

He laughed. Draco waved his wand toward the door before laying it on the bedside table. Upon looking, Draco saw that her wand was still tightly clutched in her hand. It was impossible to sleep with her only breaths away, impossible to close his eyes and pretended she wasn't there.

Especially when she rolled over in her sleep, nuzzling his bicep and sighing as she relaxed against him.

It was impossible to sleep at all.

* * *

 **I'll try to update within a few days again. I'm off for the next two days, so time to get some things done! Next up, a dramione kiss, but it doesn't go the way you expect. Please leave a review.**


	12. Chapter 12

**I hope this update will deliver since I teased you about a kiss in my last update. Thank you to the reader on AO3 who recommended the song** _ **Once in a Lifetime**_ **by Landon Austin to me. I've since added it to my playlist for my summer fics, and listen to it frequently with a few others while I write this.**

 **Thank you to mhcalamas for being my favorite cheerleader and being available to look this over.**

 **And to my twitter friend who knows who she is.**

* * *

A few days later, a letter arrived. Hermione's lips were pressed into a thin line as she turned the parchment over in her hands. Slowly, she raised her head and met the gaze of Draco and Padma. "I'll be at the dock if you need anything. I'd like to read this in private."

The scrawl across the front of the letter was unmistakable. Lead formed in her stomach as she rose from the table. Down the table, she caught the sight of Isobel snatching a piece of toast from Henry's hand, moments after he'd nicked it for himself. Hermione grinned before stepping over the bench.

"Weasley then?" Draco asked. He arched an eyebrow, raising his pumpkin juice to his mouth.

Hermione nodded. "So it would seem." She left them with that, hurrying down the beaten path.

There were still Death Eaters on the loose, but she tried not to dwell on it much. She might lose her head if she did. She'd expected to hear from Ron, though she'd been worried he might just visit her in person instead. Hermione settled at the end of the dock, making sure to avoid the board she'd broken a few days previously.

She gave herself a few moments to listen to the water moving below her, the wind rustling the trees around her. Birds took flight just over her head, spreading their wings as they soared over the Great Lake. At the count of ten, muttered nervously under her breath, Hermione tore the letter open.

 _Hermione_

 _Harry says I was a prat to you, but he doesn't think you should be friends with Malfoy either. Mum was a little worried when I told her—in my own fit of anger, I said you must be shacking up with a Death Eater; I'm sorry—so you might expect to receive a letter from her._

 _Ginny told me that I can't tell you who you can be friends with and that if I try, I'm only going to push you away. For fuck's sake, I_ don't _want to push you away. You're my best friend, but Malfoy?_

 _What are you thinking? I don't understand it much, but I realise after being hit with a Bat Bogey hex that I should try to understand. Or that's what Ginny told me. She says that obviously, Malfoy must have changed, or you wouldn't give him a second thought._

 _Just...respond, would you? After the scene in the atrium with that gigantic group hug, I'm assuming Malfoy isn't going anywhere, but neither am I._

 _Hoping to hear from you soon,_

 _Ron_

She read it twice just to let it sink in. His maturity surprised her, despite knowing it was only due to his mother and sister telling him exactly what he should hear. When she'd made her way down to the dock, she hadn't been intending to send a reply, not when his letter was sure to be all accusations and house prejudices.

Until it wasn't that.

Sighing, Hermione rose to her feet and made her way back. Not one person had moved from their spots, she saw, and Lisa was playing wizards chess with Draco. Hermione didn't stop to say anything as she went straight to her cabin. Grabbing a muggle pen, she returned to the table alongside everyone else and drafted a letter.

She was well aware that Draco was reading over her shoulder, even though she angled herself to hide it. He plucked Ron's letter out from under her arm, reading it silently to himself. If he had anything to say—judging by his furrowed brows and clenched jaw, he did—Draco remained silent.

 _Ron_

 _You're absolutely right._

 _You can't tell me who I can and cannot be friends with. It's asinine that you would think that you could. Draco is a friend, a rather close one now, so I'm hurt that you would jump to a conclusion that I'm just shagging him. You couldn't be farther from the truth, and you should be ashamed of yourself._

 _And you're right again—Draco isn't going anywhere._

 _I can't explain it; I don't think you would understand, at least not when you're so certain that he's an evil git. He's scarred by the war too, and sometimes he understands how I feel. It's a friendship built on the mutual fact that we're haunted. I know he made terrible choices, I know that, but it doesn't mean that he's irredeemable._

 _He's proved what sort of man he is to me, and that's all that matters to me._

 _I don't want us to drift apart, Ron, but if you ever insinuate he should have died to me again, I'll truly see no other option._

 _I hope the next letter you send is more lighthearted than this. How is Auror training now? How are you recovering?_

 _Hermione_

* * *

Hermione was woken in the early morning hours before the sun rose by a knock on her door. Rubbing her eyes, she slipped her feet into her trainers and opened the door. Standing right on her doorstep was Michael, and he was rubbing the back of his neck.

"Were you sleeping?"

She tilted her head to the side. Motioning a hand to her pyjamas, she nodded. "What do I owe this visit to?"

His shoulder slumped as he ran a hand through his hair. "Well," he began softly, and the Draco's door swung open to the right of them.

Draco peeked his head out, and Hermione caught the way his eyes narrowed. "What's going on?" he asked.

"It seems multiple of our children have broken curfew," Michael said. "Pretty sure they cast silencing charms on our rooms so we wouldn't know as well."

Hermione summoned a jacket, wrapping it tightly around her shoulders as she padded down the steps. "Where are they?"

"Why don't you put on some actual clothes, Granger?" Draco drawled. His eyes lazily trailed up her body, slowing as he looked over her legs.

If Michael hadn't been right there, she would have asked him why he cared at all. "I'll be fine. It's just a pair of shorts." Hermione replied. Turning to Michael, and untangling her messy hair with her fingers, she asked, "Where are they?"

There was a chorus of laughs right over their head, and Hermione looked up in horror. To her surprise, they weren't on brooms at all. Rather they were riding thestrals as they ripped through the camp, leaves scattering from the trees as they did so.

"Shite, they're up!" Henry called, and Draco rumbled with laughter.

Hermione folded her arms over her chest. Struck speechless, she could only shake her head. "You've got to be shitting me," Hermione grumbled.

Draco burst into laughter.

Michael was grinning ear to ear as he slid his hands into his pockets, staring up.

Henry was in the front, with Adelaide closely following behind. Seated just behind Adelaide was Isobel, who was gripping the Slytherin girl's waist tightly. Olivia Warbeck was higher than the rest of them, taking the reigns of the thestral and rolling through the air.

"Don't do that, Olivia!" Hermione shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth. "Get back on the ground right now!"

They didn't listen.

"Let them be," Draco said.

She gaped at him. "You're kidding. What if they fall?"

He shrugged. "It's not as if it's any worse than a broom. Plus, we're watching them. If they fall, we can cast a cushioning charm. If it makes them this happy…"

Michael agreed. "It's not a big deal. Hermione and I can stay out here to watch them. You can head back to sleep if you want."

Shaking his head, Draco took a small, but still noticeable step toward her. "Granger and I need to discuss something anyway." When Michael made no movement to leave, he added, "Privately."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's fine. You must be tired still, Michael."

Dismissed without much of a choice, Michael dragged his feet as he moved toward the Ravenclaw cabin.

She lifted her head, tucking her hair behind her ears. "I thought the two of you were getting along." They had been. Since the Lestrange attack, there had not been one foul thing said about Malfoy.

He kicked the rocks that were in his way as they made their way to the table they always sat at. Draco sat on top of it, rather than on the bench, and patted the spot next to him. "We get along fine. I wanted to talk to you."

Hermione crossed her legs, tugging her shorts down to an acceptable length. Maybe she should have changed. She wasn't so comfortable with her thighs being on complete display. "About?"

"Weasley's letter,"

"It was rude of you to grab something that didn't belong to you."

"And it was rude of him to tell his mother that you were shacking up with me as if you were some sort of Death Eater whore," Draco said coldly. His fingers tapped against his knee, and though they were meant to be watching the daredevil race right above their heads, he didn't look away from her.

Hermione couldn't pull her gaze away from him. She swallowed with some difficulty, pulling at the frayed strands of her jacket. "He doesn't think that about me." She whispered.

"If he's complained about this to anyone who will listen, and I'm sure that he has given his inability to keep his mouth shut—"

"Tread carefully, Malfoy," she muttered.

"—then it's only a matter of time before someone else says it. Being my friend isn't doing you any favours."

She stared at him, her cheeks flushed. "I told him we weren't shagging," Hermione said, unsure of why she was so breathless. "He was jealous. He's probably still jealous, but he's protective, and given everything—"

Draco hand curled into a fist from where it rested on his knee. "I don't _want_ someone to judge you because of me."

She blinked, her lips parting and her heartbeat slowing to an unsteady rhythm in her chest. "What?"

"Weasley's reaction," Draco cleared his throat. "It's only the beginning if you continue to—"

"I dare you to finish that sentence." It was a growl rolling off the tip of her tongue, and Hermione slid closer to him. Her knee knocked against his, and she leaned closer.

So close that she finally noticed that one of his eyes was darker than the other, but only barely.

"Finish that sentence." She breathed. "And I'll tell the entire Wizarding World just what I think about you to get it over with."

She thought she may have imagined the way his gaze flicked to her lips, darkening as it did. His face neared hers, and her heartbeat was loud in her ears.

"Humor me, what is that you think of me?" Draco asked.

She thought he was going to kiss her.

She was pretty sure that she wouldn't stop him as his head tilted to the side and her eyes fluttered shut. His fingers wound into her flattened curls, curling into her hair, and pulling at her scalp.

A sound escaped her, but she wasn't sure how to categorize it.

Not quite a moan, but maybe a whimper.

There was a crash, followed by someone bursting into tears that was then followed by, "Merlin, stop crying! I think you only broke an arm."

Hermione ripped away from Draco, a heavy regret settling into her chest as she looked at him. Her chest was still heaving, and she wanted to lean forward for just a quick moment.

For just long enough to satiate her curiosity so she could know how his lips felt. "A broken arm?" Hermione gasped, swinging her legs over the side of the table and hurrying toward the crash. "Which one of you is hurt?"

It was Henry, who was sheepishly staring up at her. "Miss Granger,"

She dragged a hand down her face.

His arm was certainly broken. Which she should have been completely distracted by, but Draco stood just behind her, the heat from his body burning into her back. "Up you go," Draco said, holding his hand out. "I think that will be the last time any of you rides the thestrals." It wasn't a question. He glared at the children.

Whether it was because Henry was hurt, or because they had been interrupted, Hermione didn't know.

* * *

Every time Draco was near her, her heart would start pounding in her chest, and she didn't like it one bit. Hermione wasn't so foolish that she hadn't noticed her crush on her newfound friend before, but now…

Now he seemed to reciprocate that, and she wasn't sure what to think about that.

She'd sat in her own cabin for an hour that morning, seated in the middle of her bathroom floor with Crooks curled up in her lap. In her mental list of pros and cons, well, it wasn't getting her anywhere.

Lisa had knocked her door open, nearly blasting it off the hinges when she'd encountered a complex locking spell. Kicking it shut with her foot, she stomped toward Hermione. With her hands on her hips, Lisa didn't leave any room for Hermione to escape. "Tell me what happened, and remember I'll know if you lie."

"Nothing happened," Hermione said.

"Bullshit. I notice how you hide whenever something out of the norm happens with Draco. And he's a right twat today, so I know something happened this morning after the two of you sent Michael away."

Hermione traced the grout of the white title below her. "What do you mean Draco is—"

Lisa rolled her eyes. "I mean that when I asked him where you were, he snapped 'I don't know. Do I look like her fucking keeper?' at me. Padma is certain he believes that you're avoiding him now."

"I'm not."

"Right, and you're just holed up in your room at three in the afternoon for nothing."

"I have a headache."

"Hermione, please," Lisa sat across from her.

"He was going to kiss me," Hermione muttered. "We were interrupted when Henry was hurt."

After a quick trip to Madam Pomfrey, who was in the midst of leaving for a holiday, the boy was all patched up.

"And you're avoiding him because of that?" Lisa's expression was puzzled at best. "I don't understand."

Her shoulders slumped. "I don't want to hear him tell me that it was a mistake." She muttered.

"You're not this stupid. I _know_ you're not." Lisa laughed. "Hermione, if anything he's going to kiss you again."

Hermione glanced around the room. "I guess I'm worried about that too. Ron and I just broke up. I don't think I should be snogging anyone really, or losing my head over crushes."

Lisa scooted across the floor, wrapping an arm around Hermione's shoulders. "Let me tell you something. You're allowed to feel however you do, no apologies required. You don't need to feel guilty because you haven't been separated from Ron very long. If you care for Draco, and it's pretty clear that you do, that's completely okay."

Hermione sighed. "Is it obvious that I'm hiding?"

"I'm fairly certain he would have broken the door if I hadn't come in first." She squeezed Hermione's shoulder. "Also, remember how Draco was teaching you how to fly? We're having that quidditch match now, so get a move on."

"Splendid," Hermione growled.

* * *

When she agreed to play Quidditch, Hermione should have said that she intended to float mid-air while doing her best to not be struck by a bludger. She could barely fly. How on earth was she going to play a game that would only go as well as it could if you could _fly._

She was trying not to look at the ground.

When it came to teams, they were still slightly uneven, but she was on Michael's. Draco had been named the opposing team's captain, as well as their Seeker. It was a bit of an unfair advantage when one thought about it, considering their Seeker was Michael.

He wasn't bad per se, but he was definitely not of the same calibre.

Bludgers were flying left and right as she ducked. Bursts of laughter surrounded her and it was impossible not to grin. For the most part, the game was easy going. At least it wasn't quite as dangerous as that morning.

"Hermione, get your head down!" Draco shouted.

Well, it would appear she'd spoken too soon.

Hermione broom buckled below her as soon as the bludger met her stomach, and then she was falling. Unlike the last time, she wasn't falling toward open water, but solid ground instead.

While still fumbling for her wand, Hermione remembered the blast of magic that slowed her free fall, but pain exploded from behind her eyes, and she was falling into darkness.

* * *

"Granger," someone said. The voice was a familiar rasp, and fingers were sliding up her arms. "Come on. Wake up."

She groaned. "Why is it so fucking bright?" Hermione's voice was rough, her throat dry as she opened her eyes.

Draco was hovering over her, his eyes softening as she opened hers. "That's the sun." He answered, and she realised the fingers that had been running along the inside of her forearm were _his_. "Drink this." He eased her up, sliding an arm around her back and propping her up. "You still hit your head pretty hard. This should help."

She greedily swallowed the pain potion. Around her, Lisa and Padma were sitting off to the side of her. "What happened?" Hermione asked.

Padma was the one to answer. "Well, Draco slowed you down, but the bludger still hit you. Michael dodged it, but he sent it directly at you."

No wonder her head felt like it had been stomped by a hippogriff.

"I should have stopped it, but there wasn't enough time," Draco muttered. He looked away from her.

Right, they hadn't spoken since the near kiss.

The pain potion quickly took effect, and Draco walked with her back to camp. She was immediately being tugged in every which direction by various campers, all of them asking if she was okay. She smiled. "I'm fine."

"No thanks to Corner." Draco sneered.

Dinner passed slowly, and even though the pain lacing through her head had been dulled by the potion, all of the chattering was giving her a headache. Hermione quietly excused herself before making ehr way down to the shoreline.

She spent a lot of time at the edge of the Great Lake, more than anyone else did. It was the most likely place to find her, so she wasn't surprised when Draco joined her. He sat in the sand next to her, digging his toes into it without saying a word.

Hermione filled the silence. "I think I may have a concussion."

He nodded. "I wouldn't be surprised. Maybe you should room with Lisa tonight, so she can keep an eye on you."

Schooling her features because there was no logical reason for his words to have stung, Hermione shrugged. "I'll be fine. It's hardly the worst thing that's ever happened to me."

The silence between them was heavy, and she couldn't stand it.

"You called me Hermione in front of everyone."

"It's your name, isn't it?" He drawled. The water rolled in, cold against their legs. His jeans were soaked then, all the way up to his knees.

She swayed a bit where she sat. "The potion is probably wearing off now."

"Are you groggy at all? Dizzy?" He asked quickly. Draco held her chin, turning her to look at him.

"One of your eyes is darker than the other." Hermione blurted, her hand raising. She wrapped her fingers around his wrist, squeezing gently as he looked her over. "Your eyes are pretty."

He snorted. "Thanks. Be still so I can see if—"

She'd blame it on the head injury later if she had to. Hermione wanted to _know_.

His lips were soft below hers, slanted perfectly against hers. Draco gasped, his lips parting as his fingers sunk into her hair. His nails slid against her scalp, just barely, and she found herself draped across his lap.

It was a heady feeling, straddling his lap and sliding her palms up his chest. Hermione whispered his name, idly pulling the blond hair at the name of his neck. Her lips were bruised when he finally pulled away from her, settling his hands on her shoulders and holding her at arm's length.

Her cheeks filled with colour. "Should I not have?" Hermione whispered.

Draco's cheeks were red. His hair was tousled from her hands, and his eyes were wider than she'd ever seen. Still, rejection appeared to be seconds away. "No, it's not—we can't—I can't take advantage of you when you're injured."

"I'm fine." Hermione murmured. She climbed out of his lap before he could remove her himself. She wasn't sure her pride could take it. "If you thought it was a mistake, you could have just said so. It's fine."

"I'm not saying that," Draco bit out, still glaring at her. "I'm saying you have a head injury—"

"Do you think that's the only way I could want you then?" Hermione snapped. "I didn't have a head injury this morning!"

He stood then. "Well, I don't think you should want this at all."

Hermione's eyes narrowed, and they were quickly filling with tears that she wouldn't let him see. "I don't know where you get off thinking you can tell me what to want and what to not—"

She'd sprung to her feet just before he yelled. "I was a Death Eater!" Draco roared. He ripped his sleeve up, baring the Dark Mark.

"If you're waiting for me to recoil in fear, it won't happen." She said softly.

"You fucking _should_!"

Hermione blinked, wiping her eyes as traitorous tears spilled over, when Draco turned away. He didn't offer anything else before he walked away.

And she felt guilty for not stopping him.

* * *

Hidden beyond a large tree, Henry was still reeling from what they had just seen. Adelaide's mouth was hanging wide open.

Olivia was the first to say anything. "Merlin, did you see how he snogged her? I think I have a crush on him now. If Hermione isn't—"

Henry clapped his hands over his ears. "Gross!" He stuck his tongue out before pretending to gag. "Do you think… Do you think they'll work it out?"

Adelaide was still frozen in place. "Do all boys snog like that? Her cheeks are still flushed!"

Isobel scribbled something across the notebook they had charmed for her. _I think it's the fight that has her cheeks red._

"Exactly!" Henry said.

And then: _I'm not sure they'll work it out. Draco believes he's undeserving._

"That's rubbish." Adelaide scoffed. "He's always saving her. How could he think that?"

Olivia cleared her throat. "He was a Death Eater, and Hermione was high profile on the other side. I can see how he would think… I think he may try to sabotage any relationship they had."

Henry gaped. "What? Why?"

The Gryffindor threw her hands up. "Are you blind?"

"No," Henry replied, his cheeks reddening. "But if Draco wants Hermione, which after _that_ I'm pretty sure it's obvious, shouldn't he give it a try?"

Adelaide thumped him on the back of the head. "He thinks he's no good for her. She's right. It's clear how much Draco cares for her, but if he thinks she deserves than him—"

 _She'll string him up by his bollocks for that,_ Isobel wrote and held up her sign, her lips twitching.

"Right you are," Olivia laughed.

"—he'll pretend that he doesn't care at all. Draco will push her away." Adelaide finished in a huff.

Henry looked out from their hiding place once more. "She's crying." He whispered. Hermione was seated in the same place, her arms around her knees, and her shoulders were shaking. "We have to do something. If they won't, then we will."

Once all four of them were in agreement, they sat in a huddled group as the sat on the forest floor, putting together a plan.

* * *

 **I wanted to say that I realise original characters in fanfics are normally skimmed over. Despite that, I hope you enjoy them anyway. Please let me know what you thought. I'll do my best to update in a week!**


	13. Chapter 13

**This was fully written tonight in one sitting, just so I could get it done. I was going to wait till the week mark, whenever that was, but I didn't care enough to wait. Lol, I'm sure you don't mind. All mistakes are my own. If you're interested, I listened to a song throughout this chapter and it was Right Here by Ashes Remain. It's always set my mood for this story.**

 **"I'll be right here now to hold you when the sky falls down. I will always be the one that took your place."**

* * *

Knowing he was avoiding her stung, but Hermione slid out of bed each morning as she tried not to think about it. As she told herself there was no changing it, and it had been bound to happen given her close they had grown over the weeks of summer. Clearly, she thought bitterly, there was nothing there as she'd thought.

Her pride had taken the blow; after all, Hermione unfortunately vividly remembered leaning over and kissing him. She recalled the feel of his lips below hers, his movements frenzied as his hands found her hips and she was yanked into his lap. Sometimes, she would unconsciously raise her hand to her mouth, her fingertips brushing against her lips as she sank into a memory.

It wasn't fair that she'd never been kissed like that. He was haunting her, and it was as simple as that. Four days since what she was referring to as 'the incident' and he hardly breathed in her direction. Irritating as it was, Hermione kept her anger tightly sealed away, choosing to clench her fists under the table and let her nails bite into the skin of her palm.

It was only a matter of time before Lisa cornered her.

"Morning," Henry said. He stood right before her, his hands held behind his back as he grinned up at her.

The smile reminded her briefly of Fred, and her heart twisted. Forcing a smile, Hermione said, "Good morning."

He didn't move, and when Hermione attempted to step around him, Henry's hand shot out to grab her sleeve. "I was wondering if you would help me with something."

"Of course. What is it?" Her stomach rumbled. "Er, sorry. Might this wait until after breakfast?"

He bobbed his head. "Perfect! Shouldn't be done on an empty stomach anyway." Henry walked away, a slight skip in his step as he joined Olivia and Isobel.

Hermione arched an eyebrow, carefully watching the trio as they were joined by Adelaide. Of course, Isobel had been part of their group for some time now, but Olivia came as a shock. It was a breath of fresh air to see the divide between houses slowly closing, but it was immediately followed by a worry that their friendships would be destroyed after the beginning of the term.

She sat next to Lisa, helping herself to the breakfast her friend had already grabbed for her. "What's that look on your face for?" Hermione asked.

Lisa bit into her bacon, shaking her head. "Nothing, just overheard something interesting is all. How did you sleep?"

Not well. Rodolphus' threats still lingered in her mind when she laid down, and the image of him hovering over her in the dead of night was seared into her brain. Hermione swallowed her pumpkin juice. "The same as every night."

As Padma sat down, there was a scowl on her face, and she took one look at the two of them before letting them have it. Not that they had done anything to deserve it, but from the looks of it, Padma was on the warpath. "Do you know what the fuck is wrong with Draco?"

Hermione choked, which wouldn't help her when she blatantly lied. The question was meant for her. Of course it was; it was no secret to anyone that she and Draco had grown quite close. The reminder made her chest deflate. "I have no idea."

Padma didn't believe her, but she didn't press the matter either. "He's acting like a total twat this morning."

He hadn't showed for breakfast either.

"Twat?" Henry echoed from down the table, and Padma snorted. "Who's a twat?"

"No one," Hermione giggled. "Eat your breakfast and mind your business."

Padma had covered her mouth to muffle what was sure to be obnoxious laughter. "He says nothing is wrong, but he's a terrible liar."

"Is he?" Hermione asked.

The girl spoke around her food. "Alright, so he's not a terrible liar, but he can't lie to me. I see right through it. Something is wrong, and I'm going to get to the bottom of it by the end of the week." Then there was a muttered, "Or I'll go mental and hex it out of him."

A pale hand reached over Hermione's head, and there was the warmth of a body pressing against her back as they leaned over her. She looked up, her heart coming to a sudden, breath stealing stop in her chest. Draco nicked her last ration of bacon, as well as the last of her pumpkin drink. There were dark circles beneath his eyes.

She wanted to ask if he'd been sleeping, if there was anything she could do to help, but Hermione bit the inside of her cheek, hard.

"I'm quicker with a wand than you are," He said. "Let me know whenever you'd like me to prove that. I'm sure I can slot you in before the end of tomorrow if you prefer."

Lisa burst into laughter, her knee knocking against the underside of the table. "I'd pay to see that duelling session. Maybe you're faster, but I think you're underestimating Padma over here."

"Sure," Draco scoffed.

They were interrupted by Henry. "Miss Granger?"

"You can call me Hermione, Henry." Hermione sighed, rubbing her temples. So many voices going at once and her head was already pounding. "What is it?"

"Well, what I wanted you to help me with, you probably won't like."

"Stunning endorsement," Draco said, and she tried her best not to focus on him.

He still wasn't speaking to her, but this was the closest they'd come in four days. It didn't help that he was still inches away from her, and she wondered if he was attempting to fluster her on purpose.

"Isobel wants to learn to fly." Henry continued. "But she's too scared to get on a broom. I was wondering if you would...go with us? Maybe get on a broom so you can show her it's not so bad."

Draco's voice was rough over her head. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. She's challenged with anything that involves being off the ground."

Not that he was wrong, but it rubbed her the wrong way. "I rode a dragon out of Gringotts, thank you." Hermione sneered.

When his eyes met hers, cold for reasons she didn't know, she wanted to run in the opposite direction. "You were scared shiteless too. You told me."

And she had, in the middle of the afternoon when she woke in his bed following the attack. "Language." She muttered. This would make the second time she'd been pressured onto a broom by children, but she couldn't say no, not when Henry was looking at her as he was. "Yes, of course."

Henry lit up. "Wicked! Can Draco come too? He's already saved you plenty—"

"It was twice," Hermione said sourly.

"And you can just be on the broom together. Simple." Henry continued, his voice growing louder, and capturing everyone's attention.

Hermione shook her head. "I don't need Malfoy to keep me from falling off a broom."

Draco snorted. "Are you sure about that? And since when am I Malfoy and not Draco?"

She rolled her eyes. Hermione faced him, mouthing, "Since you started acting like a prick."

"You can't teach them either. Someone else is going to have to go with you. If you teach them, all Isobel will be learning is how much it hurts to hit the ground." Draco said.

Padma cleared her throat. "Hold on. Michael!" She screamed, motioning for him to come closer.

"What?" His hair was sticking in any direction, and he scratched the back of his head.

"Isobel wants to learn to fly and Hermione is getting on a broom so she won't be scared. Will you go with them?"

Draco's hand bumped against Hermione's back, and she felt him stiffen behind her.

Michael looked from Hermione to over her shoulder. "Yeah, right now?"

"Maybe run a brush through your hair first." Hermione suggested, and the mood lightened barely at all.

She missed the panicked look Henry gave Isobel.

* * *

Strangely, her broom was jinxed. As a result, she ended up hovering in the air with Michael. "Don't take off suddenly," Hermione hissed.

He wore a lopsided grin. "Where's the fun in that? Flying can be enjoyable."

"I think you'll find that multiple bad experiences tends to ruin the experience."

Isobel didn't seem to be scared at all as she flew faster than Henry, rolling over as she did so. Hermione imagined the moment was where the young girl would have squealed with delight, but no sound left her. Still, there was a wide grin plastered across her face as Henry cried out for her to slow down.

Michael swallowed. "Would you give it a try at least?"

She looked at him over her shoulder. "Why is that every quidditch player I know wants to force me to like flying? I don't force you to enjoy reading."

He snorted. "Well, I actually enjoy reading."

"I was referring to Ron."

"Of course."

Below them, she spotted Padma and Lisa. Draco was being dragged along by Padma, who appeared to not be letting for of him anytime soon. Hermione was about to ask to land when the broom took off suddenly.

Her back met Michael's chest and she was suddenly aware of just how high they were. "I told you not to take off!" Hermione shrieked.

"I didn't." The broom was wildly out of control below them, and Hermione's eyes widened.

Every fucking time she got on a broom, something happened. "I don't care what child wants me on a broom, I'm never getting on one again!" She yelled. "Can you get us down?"

Michael managed to get them lower, but it was still too far for Hermione to jump from the broom like she was considering.

She was a witch with access to St Mungos. Healing a broken leg or arm would take no time at all.

The broom tipped. Both of Michael's arms locked around her waist, and she fumbled with her wand. Using a cushioning charm, it broke their fall considerably, and it was better than making a hard impact with the ground that could have broken his entire back.

Hermione pulled herself up off the ground, breathing heavily as she glared at the offending broomstick. "I'm going to find whoever jinxed that broom, and I'm going to—I don't know what I'm going to do, but I promise you it won't be pleasant." She offered Michael her hand, pulling him to his feet. "You're okay?"

He nodded. "You're fine?"

"Just rattled."

She caught Draco's glare, only she was surprised to find it wasn't toward her at all. He was glaring at Michael, and everything about him was tense. From his shoulders to the way his hands were tucked into his pockets. He met her eyes. "You're sure you're fine? I have more pain potion from when you were hit by that bludger."

Hermione shook her head. "I'm fine."

* * *

He was laying in bed at half past six, tossing a familiar snitch from a game during one their many matches during Hogwarts, when Padma kicked his door open. Draco blinked, his fingers closing into a fist around the snitch. "I know I make fun of you for not having manners, but have you really never been told you should knock before—"

She pointed her wand at him, her lips set into a thin line. "What happened with Hermione. Don't feed me any bullshite—"

"Now that's an image,"

"—that nothing happened. It's pretty clear after this morning. First you're angry she's going to be on a broom with Michael,"

True enough. Padma having been the one to suggest it, despite knowing how much he unfortunately cared for the curly headed swot, was just another thorn in his side. "Because every time she's on a broom, she gets hurt. Granger shouldn't be on a fucking broom."

"And then when she fell, you were livid. Don't lie to me because I will find a way to to get Veritaserum and send you straight to Granger."

His eyes narrowed. "First of all, fuck you for even saying that; low blow."

"Maybe if you would stop deciding things with your pride, and you would just tell her before someone else notices her—"

"I may not have to. She's next door, you realise, and you're shrieking like a banshee."

She shot him an obscene gesture. "Who do you think I am? I silenced the cabin before I ever came in."

"And second of all, did you consider that I was angry because she was thrown off a broom again? She attracts danger no matter where she goes, no matter what she does." His chest rose and fell with sharp breaths as he sat up.

Padma swallowed, sitting at the edge of his bed. "If you know that she gets into trouble everywhere she goes, then you already know that you're not going to cause anything worse to happen to her."

If it were possible to crush the snitch in his hand, he would have. "Don't."

She shook her head. "No, you need to hear it. Whatever has happened, and something has happened, you can let it happen. You and Hermione are the absolute worse when it comes to being honest with your feelings. If you're not avoiding them, you're spending your time making up excuses as to why it can't work."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "It can't work, and even if it could, I'm not going to try."

"She cries, you know."

Draco froze, staring at her.

"She thinks we don't notice, or maybe she believes that I just don't care because I'm always on your side. I don't know what you did, but you hurt her. I mean, Hermione has been through how much? Sure, I was there in the Final Battle. I watched a werewolf rip my sister apart, but Hermione was running for a year."

The snitch was starting to cut into his palm.

"But she never cries about it. Lisa told me how she has nightmares, that sometimes she'll get this feeling and she'll check on Hermione in the middle of the night. Hermione keeps a vase over the door at night, one that's been broken and mended many times now so she'll know if someone comes in. I suppose that's not important, but Lisa said she never cries, not even when she's asking Bellatrix to stop carving into her."

"I didn't mean… I didn't think I would upset her. I thought—"

"That she would get over it?" Padma asked. "You are not a throwaway, Draco. You are not the person that she gets close to and then moves on from. Whatever happened, you need to fix."

He couldn't. It came back to the same things, the fact that redeemed or not, there was a blemish on his arm that would define him no matter where he went. "There's no fixing it. She'll get over it within a few weeks."

His head turned to the side when she slapped him. "Sure, Draco. She can get over you because that's a witch that can do anything." Padma stood while he cradled his still red cheek. "But all she wants to do is be with you, so maybe you should think about that."

* * *

"Okay, so that didn't work," Henry muttered. The four of them sat around a crackling fire, having the camp to themselves. "What do we do now?"

Olivia rubbed her eyes. "Merlin, I don't know. They're both so thick that maybe we need to think harder."

"Why do you think I asked what we should do now?"

Shut up, Oliver. Isobel wrote with a smile. Draco was jealous when Michael was holding her. Did you see?

Adelaide nodded. "I don't think I've ever seen him so angry."

The soil was hard below them, and Henry pulled stray weeds from the ground. "Well, maybe when Corner caused that bludger to hit her. I thought he was going to k—hex him."

The sat in silence, attempting to think of anything at all.

"All we can do is push them together." Olivia sighed. "We can't force them to work it out. I say we manage to trap them together, and see what happens."

 _If it goes badly, they'll destroy whatever building we trap them in._

Henry nodded. "Maybe that cabin where they were stuck in for the storm. Think that would work?"

"What are all of you talking about?" All four of them whirled around to see Padma staring at them, her hands on her hips. "Who are you going to trap in a cabin?" She arched an eyebrow, and what was even worse was that Lisa was behind her.

Lisa stared at them for a long moment before laughing. "I'd bet anything they're talking about Draco and Hermione."

Despite the warning looks all three girls gave him, Henry spoke anyway. "You know about them?" He asked.

"You mean how they can't get over themselves and snog so we can get over with?" Lisa sniggered. "Yeah, we know."

Henry looked to his confidants before staring at the two adults before him. "They did snog," he said slowly. "So they didn't say anything?"

Lisa and Padma exchanged a look. "Well, we thought it might be something like that." Padma said. "If they haven't told us, how do you lot know?"

Henry flushed at the memory. It was gross. Draco was as good as his older brother. "Four days ago, after Hermione got hit by the bludger, they were down at the lake. Hermione snogged him."

 _Draco pulled her into his lap, and then shoved her away._

"They fought," Adelaide went on to explain. "Draco said that she should care he was a Death Eater."

"Which is ridiculous," Olivia snorted. "Even my dad, and he's an Auror, was glad Draco was here the night the Lestranges attacked. Maybe he doesn't like the means, but he said it was hard to say he hated Draco after he kept us safe."

"Hermione more or less said she didn't care." Henry finished. "And he left her there. She cried for a long time after he left, and we decided that we should fix it for them. They've already done so much for us…"

Padma grinned, knocking shoulders with Lisa. "This is perfect. Count us in."

Henry blinked.

"Definitely," Lisa said smoothly. "They both deserve a little bit of happiness, I think."

Isobel cleared her throat. _So, are we locking them in the cabin?_

* * *

 **Isobel is kind of my favorite. Please leave your thoughts if you have time/don't mind. I'll see you with the next update. With the way it's going, I may finish this by the end of May. Fingers crossed!**


	14. Chapter 14

**I'm sorry for the delayed update. I was sick last week, and couldn't find the motivation to write this week. All spells in this chapter were found on the HP Lexicon. Also there is an 'easter egg' in this chapter from my favorite Marvel superhero. (All rights belong to rightful owners.) It just seemed fitting after seeing Endgame last week. (NO spoilers will be found here if you haven't seen it.**

 **Grammarly was my beta. All mistakes are my own.**

* * *

Hermione recognised that Draco was still focused on avoiding her, but she did her best to push it from her mind. Not that he made it easy for her. They still worked side by side, not to mention that they worked better with each other than with either Hannah or Michael. She sighed heavily, blowing her bangs out of her face as Draco sat across from her.

Hannah had joined them, no doubt attempting to be a mediator between the two of them. As it stood, the campers thought they were staring down the end of a row that would rival anything Hogwarts had seen in the last century.

Hermione _tried_ not to let her temper get the best of her; really, she did. But Malfoy with his stupid fucking face that made her heart beat out of rhythm wasn't helping anything. She tapped her muggle pen against the piece of parchment, not lifting her eyes as he sat silently across from her. "Are you going to offer anything, or are you just going to sit there?"

He glared at her, at the first words that had left her since they'd sat down ten minutes ago. He arched a pale brow, his slender fingers tapping against the rough texture of the table. "Not if you're going to act like that, no."

She gripped her pen so tightly that Hannah plucked it from her hand before she could break it in two. "So," Hannah interrupted, her voice a false, high pitched type of cheerfulness. "We do need another activity for today. The kids are getting a little restless, and as much as they enjoy going to dips in the Great Lake…"

"Why don't we just ask them what they want to do?" Draco asked. His foot mistakenly brushed Hermione's beneath the table and he pulled away from her as if he'd been burned.

Sighing again, Hermione said, "When we asked them, they wanted to duel. I thought I'd mention it anyway, but since you brought it up. What do you think?"

His eyes lit up. "Duelling? Sounds bloody terrific honestly. Except some of the kids are younger than the others and—"

Hermione cut him off, already done with the conversation. She scribbled something across the piece of parchment and nodded. "Sounds great then. I'll let Michael know right now. I don't think the ages will be much of a problem. We'll be there to watch them, and keep them from getting hurt too badly."

She rose from the table, sticking the ballpoint pen in her back pocket. Hannah stared at her, her mouth opening to say something, but Hermione spun on her foot before her fellow counsellor even had the chance. Hermione thought she overhead, "Don't worry. She's just a little upset."

* * *

While those outside of their small group didn't know exactly what was going on between the Gryffindor and Slytherin counsellors, it was more than obvious that _something_ had happened. Olivia shot a panicked glance to Oliver as Hermione stormed away from Hannah and Draco.

"She's not making this easy for us, is she?" Henry grumbled. He sat in the dirt with his legs crossed as he scratched the back of his head. "I know Isobel thinks we should lock them up and let them sort it out, but I'm not sure it will work."

Olivia was of the same opinion, but they were quickly running out of options. In the last four days, they had bloody well tried everything the could think of. If the campfire needed more wood, Olivia manipulated Draco's wicked jealousy to fit her own needs. Yet saying how Michael should gather wood with Hermione had never worked.

Hermione would much rather go alone, she said, and that she would take the time to clear her head instead.

They'd tried pushing them toward one another for simple tasks, patrolling the camp at night, which was something all of the counsellors did now. Because another idea, this one belonging to Adelaide, was to break curfew and set off the wards. No one jumped out of bed faster than Draco and Hermione, but in the end, it hadn't really worked out all that well.

Adelaide was stuck with the equivalent of detention with Filch, scrubbing the floor of the kitchen by hand, and Hermione wouldn't look at Draco.

"They're both just so goddamned stubborn," Lisa hissed. "That cabin is looking better and better." Her arms rested at her sides, her hands curled into tight fists. "I'd like to just knock the sense back into them."

Padma agreed quietly. "He won't talk to me, not in private at least. Draco knows that I'm right, but he's too caught in his own thoughts to realise he doesn't have to keep her at arm's length."

Casting a long look at the children who were too nosey for their own good, Lisa pulled Padma farther away. "It's bizarre to think of where they started at the beginning of this summer to where they're at now."

She nodded, fingering the charm on the long chain around her neck. "Hermione and Draco? I would have never thought…. I would have never believed that I would even call him by his first name."

"I overheard what they're doing for today's camp activity," Lisa said nonchalantly. "We might be able to work it in our favour, but it's more likely that they'll beat the shite out of each other."

Padma snorted, covering her mouth. "Either way, we'll be entertained. What is it?"

"Duelling."

Her dark eyes widened as she grinned. "Hermione is going to hex him to kingdom come, and I can't wait."

* * *

Hermione's wand was in her back pocket, halfway tucked inside, and she was well aware of how badly she'd have liked to hex Draco. It wouldn't be mature, so she didn't. She leaned back on the balls of her feet, her shoulder brushing Lisa's as she stood to her right. "Who wants to go first?"

Leanne sat on the sidelines, wearing a bored expression as she ate an apple. If it had been weeks previously, Hermione would have expected her to challenge Draco to a duel. She doubted the two of them would ever truly like the other, but the level of animosity had dropped to zero.

Henry raised his hand. "Miss Granger,"

"Just Hermione is fine, Henry." She sighed, knowing he was up to something. It was the _only_ time he called her Miss Granger. "Would you like to go first?"

He shook his head. "Not really. I just have a suggestion. I think all of us would like to see a real duel first between more experienced witches and wizards."

Hermione only looked at him, waiting for him to continue. "Did you have anyone particular in mind?" She didn't notice Lisa stiffen at her side.

A grin spread across Henry's face. "What about you and Draco?"

Not thinking of why it was a bad idea, because it truly was, Hermione agreed easily. "Sure. Draco, you mind?"

His stare hardened as his eyes met hers and he drew his wand. "As long as you don't. I wouldn't want your pride to take too much of a blow."

The retort rolled off her tongue before she could stop herself. "I think you've already wounded my pride enough, thank you."

His nostrils flared at the comment. He watched her carefully as she walked to the middle of the clearing before standing inches away from him. "Really, Granger?"

"Honestly, Malfoy?" She scoffed. "I've been waiting to knock that smug smirk off your face again since third year. You remember where the line on the ground is, don't you?"

"Considering I made it _myself,_ " he hissed, "yes."

"Perfect." Hermione twirled her wand between her fingers, watching as his gaze dropped to her hand. She might have shrivelled below him with the way he was glaring at her, something fierce on the tip of his tongue, if she weren't so determined to win the duel.

Padma counted them down, signalling for them to begin the walk back to either land in the grass.

He didn't see the first spell before it hit him.

* * *

He was well acquainted with the sensation of a full body bind sweeping over his body. Spending nights and school breaks in the presence of Snake Face would do that to you. Still, Draco barely heard her cry of " _Petrificus Totales!"_ His body fell backward, his feet sliding through the dirt as he couldn't dig his heels into the earth to prevent himself from falling.

His eyes widened as she gritted her teeth, ripping her wand through frenzied movements of the next spell.

Clearly, Granger wasn't interested in holding back. Not for his pride, not so as not to embarass him in front of children.

" _Confringo!"_ It was a heavy weight against his sternum as the brunt of the spell made impact, launching him back several metres. The back of his skull slammed into the ground, and he was acutely aware of a cluster of small rocks digging into his scalp.

If he could have said anything—if he could have done _anything_ beyond letting his mouth hang open like a fish, he probably would have called her a bitch. Merlin knew he wanted to as he drew a sharp breath.

His wandless, non-verbal wasn't perfect, but it was just enough to get him out of the full body bind. He rolled across the ground, jumping to his feet so his back wasn't exposed for long. Several pairs of eyes were on them, and he caught the sight of Padma's shite eating grin over Granger's shoulder.

Watching Granger pivot toward him, preparing to cast another spell—from the looks of it, this one was another offensive spell—Draco realised he ought to just protect himself. She was coming after him with a vengeance, no doubt having not forgiven him for their quarrel days earlier.

He cast a _Protego_ moments before the stunner broke through it, shattering the shield. The shield only softened the blow, but no by much. Draco dropped to one knee, his long fingers splayed over his heart as he glared at her. Strands of hair fell into his eyes.

Draco bit the inside of his cheek, watching her sidestep as she carefully watched him. Granger waited for him to go on the offensive, to hurl spells at her like he meant it.

For a brief moment, he considered it.

"I'm not going to fight you like you want," he commented, casting another shield charm. That one actually did the job, deflecting the stunner.

Her chest rose and fell with each heavy breath. "Scared, Malfoy?" Granger mocked.

His fingers tightened around his wand. "Hardly."

There was a not so quiet, "Are they going to kill each other?" Henry watched them, his eyes wide as he pulled up clumps of grass. "Miss Hermione, don't hurt—"

" _Relashio!"_ Draco called out, watching as the vine wand slipped from her grip. Granger's eyes shot open while she fumbled for her wand. " _Rictusempra,"_ quickly followed.

She clutched her sides, laughing uncontrollably as she still reached for her wand. She choked out, "Are you bloody serious?"

He nodded, eying her closely for when she inevitably climbed to her feet and cursed him again. A flock of birds squawked over his head, and he _really_ hoped she wouldn't find the strength to cast _Oppungo._ "I told you—"

"And it's obvious that you're not giving it all you've got!" Hermione snapped as she cast, " _Levicorpus!"_

Yanked into the air, dangled by his fucking ankle, his patience was slipping rapidly. "You fucking—"

"I can take it, you know, whatever you can cast at me. I'll just return it ten-fold." Her eyes were dark, the familiar shade of firewhisky that he was so fond of blotted out by anger.

It was an effort to end the duel before she could do anything worse, but he didn't expect it to work.

Therefore, he wasn't terribly surprised when it went tits up.

" _Expelliarmus!"_ Draco dragged his wand through the series of movements, his jaw clenched as her wand was yanked from her grip.

It was halfway across the makeshift duelling ring between them when Hermione called it back to her. " _Accio_ wand!" And it worked, given the way his concentration broke as she planted her feet, shoulders width apart.

 _Oh, fuck._

Being a Death Eater, whether by choice or force, one learned several spells that weren't considered appropriate in Hogwarts. Still, Draco didn't recall that incantation that left her lips, but he recognised the wand work within an instant. The spell burst from her wand, jetting across the expanse between them.

He dropped to one knee, glancing up as it went right over his head.

Granger yelled a warning just before it collided with Corner. Conjunctivitis Curse. " _Impedimenta! Langlock!"_

Draco rose to his feet in a swift motion, bringing his wand down in a sweeping arc. A stunner left his wand, sending her back several steps as she stared at him.

Unable to cast a spell, even one to free herself from the Langlock so she could chant an incantation, Draco neared her.

His cheeks were flushed, as were hers. "Yield?" He panted.

She arched an eyebrow, and he couldn't have seen it quickly enough. Her tongue was no longer stuck to the roof of her mouth.

 _How had she—_

Hermione caught her breath as he found himself at the end of her wand. The tip of it was sharp against his throat, pressing harshly against the space just below his collarbone. "Yield?" She whispered, levelling him with a stare. "I can do this all day."

He expelled a sharp breath, dropping to the ground. The sky was bright overhead as he laid on his back, staring at her. "Not necessary."

* * *

"Did you see them?" Olivia hissed.

Her comrades nodded in quick succession. In another match not far from them, Lisa and Leanne were facing off against one another. Though they weren't as interested in that duel as they'd been in the first one of the day.

 _It was intense, hard to miss really._ Isobel smirked as she raised her notebook. _What now?_

Olivia tapped her fingers against her chin. "At least we know the physical attraction didn't go away."

"I'll say," Henry snorted. "At the end, I thought he was going to snog her. And I've already seen that once. I don't want to see it ever again. He's like...my brother."

The girls laughed, though Isobel's was noiseless. "I don't think we'll have to lock them in the cabin anymore. Just a little push now is all we need." Olivia said. She plucked wildflowers from the ground below them. "They've been stealing looks at each other all day."

"If they don't get their shite together, I'm going to go mental," Henry muttered.

There was a chorus of agreements.

* * *

Hermione flicked through her book, a muggle tome, as she sat at the tables after dinner. She wasn't quite ready to return to her own room for the night, still worried each night. She hadn't yet escaped the fear of another attack, even though Aurors had swept through, redoing the wards.

A twig snapped in two behind her before someone much smaller than her took the seat beside her. "Miss Granger?"

She nearly hung her head. What could Henry possibly want now? Glancing over, she saw him picking at the dirt beneath his nails. "Oh, please, Henry, haven't we done this back and forth enough now? You can call me Hermione." She rose from her seat to tend to the campfire in the centre of the tables, moving the brush around.

"Miss Hermione," he ammended and ignored her sharp, irritated intake of breath. "Would you please, for the love of Merlin and Morgana, go talk to Draco?"

She blinked, her head snapping up. "I beg your pardon?"

Henry barreled on, not abashed in the least. "He's been foul ever since you snogged him by the lake, and then went flying with that Ravenclaw. He's going to curse us into toadstools if you don't resolve this tension."

Her mouth was dry as she stared at him. " _What?"_ Hermione managed, her voice strangled and clipped. "I'm not sure—"

"Please—"

"He's so jealous he can barely see straight and—"

 _We are not above locking you in a cabin until you sort out the unresolved sexual tension._

Hermione stared as three more children appeared from various hiding spots. Her gaze lingered on Isobel. "Unresolved sexual tension? Where did you even learn that?"

The girl wiped her charmed notebook clear, scribbling across it with the end of her wand. _Lisa and Padma._

"You've got to be shitting me." Hermione gaped at them, laughing to herself. "Alright, I'll talk to him. You lot should be in bed, right now."

"You _promise_ you'll talk to him?" Adelaide pointed at her.

Hermione heaved a sigh. "Straight away." Just as soon as she collected herself and her nerves. The small group of campers made their way to their designated cabins, but Isobel stopped to give one last look to Hermione.

She raised the sign in her hands. _Good luck, Hermione._

As the door shut behind Isobel with a barely audible click, Hermione stared at the stars overhead, willing them to give her advice.

* * *

She cast _Alohomora_ , letting herself into his room without warning him that she was on the other sdie. Draco looked to her, shocked, as he laid in his bed, tossing a snitch in the air. "I'd like to talk to you."

He arched a pale brow. "I'd assume so. There's no other reason for you to barge in this late, is there? Let me guess, it's about activities? Well, the last time I helped you, you ended up beating the shite out of me. So forgive me if I'm not as willing to help—"

"No," she swallowed. "I meant that I'd like to talk about us. I've given you the cold shoulder, no more than you have, this week and I can't stand for it to go on any longer. It's driving me spare every time I look at you." And there it was, a partial confession that was not easily taken back. "So," she held her hands up in surrender. "Here I am."

He caught the snitch, tightly gripping it in his hand. "I'm not ignoring you."

"You are."

"I'm truly not. It's not my fault if you're reading into it too much, and making my actions about you—"

"I'll put a Draco Malfoy sized hole in the bedroom wall if you finish that sentence." Hermione said smoothly. She took a step toward him. "You know, I may not know everything about you, and I may not know you as well as I like to think I do, but I know you're lying to yourself right now."

He swung his legs over the bed. "Lying to myself?" Draco laughed, and the sound grated on her ears. "Listen, there's nothing to discuss. It's simply put: we were growing close, and before you get your knickers in a twist, we're still friends."

Hermione noticed the difficulty he had swallowing as he said it. "Bullshite."

His eyes widened a fraction. "Come again?"

She shook her head, laughing quietly to herself as she was unsurprised at the turn of events. Of course he wouldn't admit anything, and she was a fool if she expected him to. "You can say there's nothing to talk about, but it will still be a lie. You've been jealous of Michael since I got on a broom with him, and you've been angry with me since I kissed you, and you're too bloody proud to admit it!"

Draco's hands curled into fists, the snitch likely cutting into his palm. "I'm _not_ fucking jealous of Corner."

He towered over her as she spat, "And I thought it was only Ron who had the emotional range of a teaspoon!"

"I'm not jealous," Draco repeated through gritted teeth.

In hindsight, it was a silly move to use his jealousy against him, immature, and she knew it. Only she wasn't perfect. "Fine," Hermione breathed, turning away from him and toward the door. She moved to make a quick exit, her hand already on the doorknob. "Since we're not able to get along anymore—it's okay—I'll ask Michael to work with me on camp activities."

There were three footsteps, each heavy against the floor before Draco caught her by her shoulders and turned her around. A gasp fell from her mouth as he backed her to the door, and his mouth came down on her own.

His fingers sunk into her hair, tugging slightly at the wild curls that wrapped around the digits. "A little jealous," Draco murmured.

Hermione's shoulders fell as she relaxed against the door. Running her palms up his chest, her breath hitching as his hands eventually found her hips, she nodded the best she could. "I'll never let you live it down."

"I might be able to make you forget." His lips skimmed her cheek before he knelt down, kissing down her throat. "Just by snogging."

She swallowed, anticipation knotting in her stomach at just the prospect of kissing him for as long as she liked. "I'm still cross with you."

"You can duel me again over it." He muttered.

"We're still going to discuss this." Hermione said, her voice dying in her throat as he pulled her away from the door. "After," she clarified.

The corner of his mouth twitched. "After what?"

Well, not _that._ Though she saved herself from the embarrassment of saying it out loud. Hermione pulled him to her by latching onto his shirt, and stretching up to kiss him again.

* * *

 **I'm really just dying to hear what you thought. Only a couple of chapters left to go now.**


	15. Chapter 15

**As always, Grammarly was my beta, but this will probably be actually beta'd at some point. Any mistakes are my own. This story is quickly nearly completion, maybe just two, or possibly three more chapters. If you were expecting a lot of smut in this story, I'd like to tell you now that there won't be hardcore smut scenes, but possibly a couple of heavy scenes.**

 **Thank you for reading! I'm really excited to wrap this up and start posting my new dramione.**

 **Possible warning: Discussions of war, and violence in this chapter.**

* * *

He traced the scar running along her arm, one from a branch while she was running through the Forest of Dean a year previously. Her breath caught in her throat as her head fell to the side, and she laid on his bed in silence. There was a look of adoration on his face as he traced the faint scars along her arms, his fingers moving between them, between the freckles on her forearms, and all the way to her shoulder.

Draco didn't turn her arm over, most likely because he knew exactly what he would find. Hermione said nothing-there were no words that were good enough, she found-but she watched him closely.

Slowly, he pressed a kiss to her shoulder, to the small scar that she knew was there. "What's this from?" He whispered against her skin.

She was shaking. He'd left her enough room to escape if she wanted. The only frightening thing was how much she didn't want to escape. Her mind was reeling, knowing they had quickly gone from snogging like they would never have another chance to quite literally sharing scars.

It was three in the morning and she'd never felt more awake in her life. Not since the war, not since she was expecting a Death Eater to tear down their wards every night.

Swallowing, Hermione murmured, "I ran with scissors when I was for years old. My mum didn't know I had them until she heard me screaming in the playroom."

He chuckled. "Scissors?"

Hermione explained it the best she could, but given his reaction, Draco didn't understand why anyone would have scissors in their home, especially when it was basically two blades. "I also gave myself a terrible haircut too."

His free hand rose to her hair, twisting locks of hair around his finger. "What did it look like?"

She took his hand, lifting it to just above her ear, mistakenly yanking her hair in the process. "Well, it was this short all the way around."

His eyes widened. "Never cut it that short again?"

"Are you kidding? It looks like a right disaster when your hair is as curly as mine." Hermione laughed. She rolled onto her side, her body mirroring his. "We should sleep."

Draco propped his head up with his hand, his other hand resting on her hip. His finger hooked through the loop on her jeans and he tugged her closer. It didn't work, but she slid closer to him. Her knees knocked against his as he peered down at her. "I'm not particularly tired."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, well, that's probably because I'm here."

"Conceited, Granger?"

The blankets were bunched beneath them. She lifted her chin. "No, I just think you'd fall asleep if I left."

His knuckles brushed her chin as he lifted her head. "What if I don't want you to leave though? What then?"

She could hear her heartbeat between her ears, could feel the fierce blush creeping up her cheeks. "I'd probably ask why you felt that way, might not stay if you didn't give me an answer."

He smirked, ducking his head down. All of their moments spent together, all of them up to then, couldn't have prepared her for how playful he could be. Draco surely heard her swallow as he pressed his lips to hers, his fingers sinking into her hair again. "Still need an answer?"

Managing a nod, Hermione didn't give him the chance to answer as she slid her palms up his chest. His lips slanted against hers as he rolled on top of her, bracing his elbows against the mattress on either side of her head, his knee planted firmly between her knees. Her breaths came in short pants as her nails bit into his shoulders through his jumper.

By the time they parted, she wanted to pull him into her once more. "Because I want you here," Draco rasped. "It's as simple as that."

Balancing herself on her elbows as she propped herself up, Hermione stared at him. "Others are sure to talk if I leave your room in the morning, you know."

He arched a brow. "Do you care about that?"

She exhaled a sharp breath, her bangs flying up as she did so. "Of course not, but I'm not the one who's been fighting this since last week."

"I've been fighting this for longer than just a week," he muttered. "To be completely bloody honest, I've been fighting any feelings beyond animosity since I noticed you wear your heart on your sleeve."

Wide-eyed, Hermione didn't get the chance to ask how long it had been.

Draco sat up, crossing his legs as he ran his fingers to his already tousled hair. "I know that you'll ask, but I don't know when I noticed it."

"Try?"

"Looking for validation?"

Her nose crinkled at that, and she nearly called him cruel for his tone. "No," Hermione replied, pulling on a stray string of the blanket, "Just wondering if it was the same time as me is all."

The room was dark around them as it had been for several hours, only lit by the small lamp in the corner of the room. He looked to her, and then away, a total of six times before he gave her an answer. "You're too forgiving. I knew it from the second you gave me a second glance." He spoke without looking at her. "I didn't expect this, but I appreciated the way you looked at me."

She tilted her head to the side. "You're no monster."

A heavy silence fell, and all of his playfulness vanished. His shoulders tensed. "That's a matter of opinion."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "I can't sit here and tell you that you're wrong. Granted, I made a charm that would alert me if you did perform any horrible misdeeds, but I know you better than I did then."

He snorted.

"And you saved my life," Hermione said clearly, letting her hands fall to her lap.

"I ended more than a few as well."

She didn't pull her gaze away from him as she nodded. "I know you did. It doesn't change my mind. I've known all along, Draco."

Considering the way his eyes hardened when he looked to her, Draco hadn't forgotten the file the Ministry had released to her. "I watched Burbage die without batting an eye."

She knew about it, had known since a lazy morning spent in the sunlight streaming through a window of the Burrow. "I know."

"When the Carrows were wreaking havoc across Hogwarts, there were revels still. They pulled me along to them, pushed me into the thick of it. At one of them, a newly marked Death Eater couldn't rape a muggle girl. Do you know what happened to him?"

She did.

"He was flayed alive. Do you know who did it?" Draco snarled, ripping his eyes away from her.

"I know." Hermione breathed. She wasn't at all sure how he would react to her knowing the worst parts of him, the things he should have been allowed to bury. "I've known since I met you in the Leaky Cauldron."

He shook his head. "You should have run the other way, but instead you're here, with me." Draco stared at her then, his eyes dropping to her bruised lips,

"Don't try to convince me to leave, Draco. It won't work." Hermione sighed. "I'm not going anywhere, no matter what you tell me." She swung her legs over the side of the bed, rising to her feet. Her heart clenched as his face fell, likely believing she was leaving anyway. Extending a hand, she murmured, "Come on. Let's go for a walk."

He grasped her hand with a heavy sigh and followed her out the door. "You're disgustingly positive."

Her head tipped back as she laughed quietly. "One of us has to be to make up for your doom and gloom," Hermione teased. "A new nickname, perhaps?"

Draco scowled.

They walked down to the Great Lake, Hermione kneeling down and picking out a pebble along the shore. She threw the first stone, and he watched from her side as it skipped four times across the surface of the water. "You try." She pressed a stone into the middle of his palm and stepped away from him.

He managed to make it skip twice.

"I have nightmares still." Hermione kicked a stone into the shoreline as she didn't look up. "I know that they're nothing compared to what you were forced through, but if we're sharing…"

Surprised was etched into his features, but he nodded. "How did you get through it, the war, I mean? You were on the run."

Hermione stared at the water as it swayed beneath the moon. "There wasn't a choice. I had to either compartmentalize, or I was likely to die. It was always about keeping Harry alive, but also ourselves. If I stopped to think about how the world was shite, or how it wasn't fair, I'm not sure I could have kept going."

His fingers traced her spine, a silent reminder that he was still there, still listening.

"Wearing a Horcrux didn't help matters. I didn't think about it, because I couldn't think about it. It was an unhealthy way to handle things, and I only realised after the war how close I constantly was to a mental break."

He skipped the stone seven times following her words, and he cast a look her way. "Think you can do better?"

She knelt down and grabbed a stone. "How did you get through it?"

"The war?" He asked.

Hermione nodded.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Draco bite his bottom lip hard. "Sex."

She gave pause at that, looking at him in surprise. "Huh, can't say I ever thought about using that." Hermione laughed, throwing her stone. Five times. "Did it work for you at least?"

"Not for long after, no, but during was a nice reprieve," Draco said quietly. "I wasn't sure if you'd mind hearing it, but you asked."

Rolling her eyes, a repeated action by then, Hermione shook her head. "I don't care. If that's what helped you, then it's what helped you." She threw another stone, still only coming in at six skips. "I'm not going to sleep until I beat you."

He stared at her. "Come here." Draco held her by her hips, pulling her in and kissing her roughly.

It was inevitable that she leaned into him, letting her rock fall from her grip as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "What-" Hermione squeaked as he scooped her up, wrapping her legs around his waist.

"Fancy a midnight swim?"

"Don't you dare!"

"Live a little, Granger," Draco retorted before throwing her right into the water. He joined her quickly after, pulling her close as she splashed him, kissing her hard and silencing anything else she had to say.

* * *

Following what had been a long snog in the middle of the cold water of the Great Lake, and articles of clothing having nearly been discarded, Hermione and Draco had returned to their own rooms. He'd offered for her to sleep in his bed with a smirk that told her she might not get any sleep at all.

So she'd slept in her own bed while attempting to soothe her rapid heartbeat, knowing that their relationship had completely changed. As she laid in bed, she was confronted with the knowledge of a few things. Lisa was going to tease her relentlessly, and Hermione might never live it down. All things considered, it wasn't so bad. Another thought was that she should give Henry, and the other children something as a thank you for forcing her hand.

The last thing was the fact that she'd need to tell Ron and Harry eventually. She didn't imagine the news would go well. How could it? Swallowing as she crawled out of bed, Hermione resolved to tell them soon, but not before she knew what was going on between the two of them. Their relationship had irrevocably shifted, but Hermione still worried Draco would return to his silence and avoiding her.

She dressed in denim shorts, and a thin shirt before pulling a jacket over her arms. At this point in the summer, they were playing all of their activities by ear. In the beginning, their planning had been to push children together, to hopefully help them make friends. Now that exactly that had happened, it was easier to let them guide the days now.

Letting her door close softly behind her, Hermione made her way down the steps. Lisa and Padma were already seated across from Hannah and Michael at the table, breakfast in front of all of them.

Oliver sat in a patch of dirt while in the middle of a game of Exploding Snap with Olivia. Adelaide, Henry, and Isobel sat beside them, balancing their plates on their knees as they shovelled their breakfast into their mouths.

There were heavy footfalls behind her, and then a hand slipping into her own before she could turn around. Hermione's head snapped up, her eyes widening as Draco smirked. His thumb brushed across her knuckles, and he tilted his head toward the table. "Surprised?"

Hermione nodded, staring down at their conjoined hands. "I thought you would want to keep it a secret is all." His fingers fit between the gaps of hers perfectly. "You took me by surprise." She glanced at the ground, her cheeks colouring as several thoughts went through her mind, but her thoughts came to a screeching halt.

" _Finally!"_ Hermione didn't recognise the voice, not at first, but she looked over her shoulder. Isobel grinned ear to ear, her notebook forgotten on the ground as she looked from Hermione to Draco.

"You talked," Hermione choked.

Isobel's voice was hoarse, but she still bounded over to Hermione. "We thought you would never get it together. I was going to lock you in a cabin." She continued flippantly, her voice raw as she looked at the fellow counsellors.

Hermione dropped Draco's hand, throwing her arms around Isobel and pulling her into a tight hug. "It's so good to hear your voice." Her voice was muffled against Isobel's hair, and the only sign the girl had heard it at all was her tightening fingers in the back of Hermione's jacket.

* * *

Hermione's shriek was heard throughout the entire camp, inducing the laughter of those around her, as Draco threw her off the dock and into the Great Lake. She surfaced quickly, her hair matted by the cool water, and she glared at him. Hermione would have mentioned how throwing her in the lake twice in a twelve hour period was overdoing it, but no one else truly needed to know how they had spent the night.

Draco dove in immediately after her, hooking an arm around her waist and dragging her further into the water. "Stop kicking me!" He growled, nipping her earlobe.

"Stop dragging me farther out then," she muttered. Hermione tried to wiggle free but was unsuccessful as he locked an arm around her waist, and kept her close to his chest. "You're going to get us eaten by the Giant Squid."

"You worry too much."

Something brushed against her leg. Hermione squeaked, tightening her arms around his neck, and raising herself to wrap her legs around his waist. "Something went past my leg."

He sniggered. "Are you sure it's not just because you haven't shaved your legs?"

Hermione glared. "I have shaved my legs, you tremendous prat, but thanks for asking. Why did you pull us out here anyway?"

He shrugged. "Do you want to be subjected to questions of how this happened? Padma is already asking, and she doesn't accept no for an answer."

Far away from them, children were dunking one another. The witch in question smiled at them from her spot on the shore before looking away and whispering to Lisa.

"I don't mind," Hermione said, her fingers brushing against the nape of his neck. "I'm just not sure what I'm going to tell Lisa. It's not as if there's an official title-"

Draco snorted. "Girlfriend," he murmured, turning them so no one could see him press his lips to her collarbone. "If you're willing."

She sucked in a breath. It was July, well, the end of July and Ron had broken up with her nearly seven weeks ago if she counted. Tiny worries of whether it was too soon, too-

"You can say no if you're not sure. It's not going to ruin anything between us while you figure it out." Draco cleared his throat, watching her closely with wide eyes. "It might wound my pride, but I have enough pride that I can withstand a beating."

"There's nothing to figure out." Hermione breathed, noticing how he tensed below her touch, likely assuming a rejection was coming. "I was worried about...it's not important right now. I'd like that." She pressed a soft kiss to his temple, threading her fingers through his hair. "Who would have thought?"

"Not me," he murmured, "but I'd hoped."

* * *

 **Please leave your thoughts if you feel so inclined. Until the next chapter!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Warnings for sexual content, in case you don't like that sort of thing.**

* * *

In a twist that Hermione didn't expect—okay, she semi expected it—Draco couldn't keep his hands to himself. Not in the sense that he was constantly snogging her—which, _alright_ , he could often be found after the children went to bed, pressing her to the nearest flat surface, and burying his fingers in her hair.

He held her hand often, brushing his fingers across her knuckles, a wry smirk curving his lips. He knew about her nightmares, knew them inside and out as if they were his own. Which, she knew, one of them was. Following the third day of their relationship, which was barely in its infancy really, Draco had somehow _known_ she was tangled in the sheets of her bed, crying out for Bellatrix to stop carving into her.

When he woke her, she was drenched with sweat, only Hermione thought it was blood, running down her arm. Rolling off the ends of her fingertips and splattering against the floor where it would coagulate. Hermione jerked awake that night, throwing her head back and busting Draco's lower lip, but his arms were locked around her.

He said she needed to level out, whispered in her ear that he was _there—_

 _It's okay. I'm here. Scream. Let it out, Granger. She's dead._

And then she'd shuddered against him, raising her hands, digging her nails into his forearm as he helped her come down. _I should have killed her,_ she'd whispered. Hermione hadn't been able to find any amount of horror at her admission, at the surge of blood lust that had surfaced.

They shared nightmares. Draco dreamed of her writhing on the floor more often than he had before, and his eyes glinted in the darkness as he detailed why. Now that they were twisted around one another, now that she was _his_ , the memory of her blood coating the floor of his drawing room was prevalent. He admitted that he was more angry with himself than ever, for being a coward, for not protecting her even if there hadn't been a reason to do so then.

He didn't care much for Lucius' death, a man that Draco didn't refer to as his father anymore. Still, his mother's death went hand in hand with the man's, and Hermione curled herself around Draco as he hyperventilated. Brushing hair from his face, and whispering that it wasn't okay, she knew that, but she was _there,_ and she apologised for not having more to offer, and he smashed his lips to hers.

It was an endless cycle. She hoped it wouldn't end at least. She _liked_ how his fingers slid through hers, how his palm slid up her thigh beneath the table at meals; _liked_ the way he smiled at her, made her heart stop dead in her chest when he laughed at one of her utterly terrible jokes.

The kids loved them too, constantly watched them for a little too long, and Draco would mutter, "I'll give them something to stare at,"

"Draco, _no,_ " Hermione laughed.

Padma and Lisa exchanged knowing looks, leaning back in their seats when the newly established couple argued.

And another day:

"What do you _mean_ you _told_ them to ride the thestrals?" Hermione shrieked a week later, her cheeks flushed, but it was due to the snogging session. The one that had been cut short as Olivia Warbeck ripped through the treeline on the back of thestral while she rolled, narrowly avoiding a water spell shot by Henry.

Draco shrugged, leaning against the cabin. "I didn't give them express permission to ride them. I didn't say 'Children, go ride dangerous animals.'"

Her eyes narrowed. "What did you tell them then?"

Lisa snorted from her seat at the tables as she painted her nails, comparing them to Padma's. "Nothing good, that's for sure!" She hollered.

"Shut your mouth, Turpin!" Draco yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth. Turning back to Hermione as she tapped her foot impatiently, he gave a forced smile. "I told them I needed them to preoccupy themselves for an hour so I could—"

She remembered, vividly, why she'd ever thought him as irritating. "You must be the most irresponsible camp counsellor I've ever met in my—"

"Have you met many?"

"I attended summer camp for three years—"

"There was that time Michael let you fall off a broom, not once but twice. Isn't he more irresponsible than I? At least I saved you one of those times, you know—Granger, are you about to hit me?" His eyes widened as he shuffled backwards, colour draining from his face. "I think that's called physical abuse."

She made a show of pushing up her sleeves, not bothering with her wand. "Is it though?" She muttered. "You're such a complete twat!"

"Draco's a twat!" Oliver yelled, and there was a chorus of voices repeating just that. "Motion carries, Hermione!"

Hermione gazed overhead, shaking her head. "You heard them, Malfoy."

"You taught them a dirty word." Draco retorted. "Some counsellor you are, Granger."

"Back to surnames, are we?" Hermione shot him an obscene gesture. "In that care—"

He smirked, capturing her wrists and pulling her behind the cabin, out of view except for all of those overhead. "Let's not pretend you won't be—"

"Finish that sentence," Hermione warned.

"Is this our first fight?"

She blinked, twigs snapping under her trainers. "What?" A smile spread across her face as he laughed. "You're serious. Draco,"

He pressed her to the wall, still holding her wrists as he pinned them over her head. As it always did, his knee slid between her legs, and Hermione collapsed against the wall as he slowly kissed her. "You can call me Malfoy all you like, so long as you keep saying my name like that." His eyes were dark as he looked at her, dropping to her red lips and her heaving chest.

An outburst of laughter overhead reminded her just where they were, and also just how easy it was to be distracted by him. "There are _children_ ," Hermione hissed through gritted teeth.

He cast a Notice-Me-Not. "All fixed." He muttered, dropping her hands, and lifting her up.

She gasped, "Do you have a thing for pinning me to things?" when she ought to have been putting a stop to everything. They couldn't, shouldn't at least, just make out in the middle of broad daylight.

"Why?" he rasped, dipping his head and then his lips were skimming her collarbone. "Do you like it?"

* * *

At two in the morning, Draco slipped into her room. "You should be asleep," he murmured, coming to sit beside her. He leaned against the headboard, closing his eyes, not stealing a peek at the parchment in her lap.

Hermione swallowed. "Why couldn't you sleep?" Her muggle pen scratched against the parchment, but she sighed and balled it up before it joined the other drafts in the floor.

"I was just waiting for the children to give up and go to bed. You know they wait for me to sneak over? Nosy little beasts."

She grinned. "They think they're entitled to the comings and goings of our relationship since we'd probably still be avoiding each other if they hadn't intervened."

His tongue darted out, sliding along his bottom lip. "Well, they're definitely not entitled the coming's of our relationship."

Hermione paused, looking at him as her brows drew together. "Did you just make an innuendo?" She burst into laughter, her sides shaking, and he was grinning at her in a way that made her shiver. "You're a menace."

As he so often did, he snaked an arm around her waist, coaxing her closer and ultimately pulling her into his side. "What's all that for?" Draco motioned to the six drafts, the six balled up feet of parchment littering her floor.

Hermione laid her head on his shoulder, picking at her nails. "I've decided that it would be better if I tell Ron and Harry about us sooner rather than later. If I wait, they'll only be angrier with me for keeping it from them."

Draco's fingers smoothed along her sides. "Can't find the words?"

"Can't find the courage actually."

He snorted. "That's shite. You're a Gryffindor."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, well, not only are Gryffindor's typically brave, they're notorious for being hot tempered. And Ron doesn't need to be hot tempered to be angry about his." Hermione sighed, fidgeting with her fingers. "I don't care that he'll be angry. He'll get over it, or he won't I've accepted that."

"Not a large chance he'll get over it. The two of us don't get along, not to say I wouldn't try to at the very least." As her head rose, he grumbled, "Don't look so surprised. Surely you've realised by now that I would do anything for you."

The memory of Lestrange pointing his wand at her was vivid—violent—in her mind. "I know. It's just, it's nice to hear even still." Hermione laid her hand on his thigh, giving a reassuring squeeze. "Ron wouldn't be pleasant. You don't have to speak to him; I don't expect you to."

"He's your friend, and your ex-boyfriend, which isn't thrilling in the least, but you're my girlfriend now. I'm not going to be a dick to him," Draco paused, "much."

"You're a liar, but the sentiment is appreciated all the same."

"Grab one of those letters. We'll figure out what to say." He nudged her side, threatening to send her tumbling to the floor if she didn't comply.

* * *

Hermione stirred, instantly reminded as she always was, that she was draped across Draco's hard chest. "Merlin, what time is it?" She muttered, crawling across his frame and casting a _tempus_ charm.

Half past ten o'clock. They never slept this late, which meant everyone, _everyone_ , in the camp probably thought they were shagging. Dragging a hand down her face, Hermione considered faking some sort of illness. It'd have to the contagious sort, something not passed by kissing or she'd never hear the fucking end of it.

"'Ome back to bed," Draco murmured, his voice thick with sleep as he reached for her. His hands skimmed the backs of her legs, making her squirm.

Hermione took a deep breath, climbing out of the bed before he could capture her. "Draco," She poked his arm as she crouched beside the bed. "Draco."

"'M sleeping." She was pretty sure the snore that followed was only for comedic effect. It wasn't possible for someone to snore in a cute way. "Lay down."

"I'm going to take a shower." Hermione told him. "It's late. Everyone is probably awake, and they probably think that we're shagging."

When Draco didn't make the joke that he'd give them something to talk about, Hermione realised that he was exhausted. "I'll be back," she whispered, crawling back onto the bed and dropping a kiss to his forehead.

He still tried to grab her as she made a quick escape.

* * *

There was a crash in her bedroom.

Hermione paused, turning off the water as she stepped out of the shower. "Draco?" She called.

Another crash. "You son of a bitch!"

Hermione flailed, barely stopping herself before she faceplanted on the slick tile. Wrapping a robe around herself and tying it quickly in front of her, she threw the door open. It was a mess. The wardrobe that sat against the wall was splintered, her clothes spilling out from it. Not to mention the bed itself was broken in two.

Probably from the spell that had most likely nearly hit Draco. Her boyfriend stood in front of her, not risking a second to glance over his shoulder. "So," Draco spoke nonchalantly, despite the sight of Ron glaring from in front of the door. "We won't need to send that letter after all. Weasley found out."

"Ron, put your wand down." Hermione padded past Draco, swiping her wand up from the nightstand. "You won't be needing it."

Ron's eyes narrowed on her. "Did he _Imperius_ you?"

"No, but you're welcome to check if you like. No, Draco is just my boyfriend now. I had a letter to send you today to tell you, since I thought it would be best if you heard it from me." Hermione gripped her wand, just in case she needed to stop Ron in his tracks. "Please don't do this."

He was still dressed in his training uniform, which was a replica of a real Auror uniform, save for the insignia on the right arm. Ron lowered his wand. "You're not being forced against your will?"

She shook her head. "Absolutely not."

"I don't like it," Ron grumbled.

Hermione squared her shoulders, her chest tightening in the midst of the conflict, but she rolled her eyes. "You don't have to like it. _I_ have to like it."

"Malfoy is a good for nothing Death Eater. No matter how many improvements he makes, he'll still be that." Ron said. "You're too good for him, 'Mione."

She glanced over her shoulder, motioning for Draco to come to her side. As he did, she clasped her much smaller hand in his. "You're so far off the mark." Hermione replied without looking at Ron, but instead smiling at Draco. "He was a Death Eater, and he's already tried to convince me to have nothing to do with him because of it. If he can't convince me, what possibly makes you think that you can?"

Ron tilted his head to the side, appearing to be moments from tearing his hair out. "Can I talk to you in private?"

To say she didn't like it would have been an understatement, but Draco answered for her. "I'll be somewhere else." Draco agreed, dropping a kiss to her temple before exiting the cabin and shutting the door behind him.

"He's affectionate. It's weird and gross."

It wasn't funny. She was more than mildly offended, but Hermione found herself chuckling anyway. "He's only nice to me some days, but he's a different person than I thought I knew of in Hogwarts."

"He was a Death Eater while we were in Hogwarts." Ron moved to sit at the edge of her bed, well, the half of it that was still upright, but she shook her head. "I know you've become friends." He began.

She folded her arms over her chest. "You're not going to change my mind."

"Did it have to be so soon after we broke up? Were you already...like this before we broke up?"

Hermione would have liked to hex him for the accusation. "No," She said, her voice hard. "We were just becoming friends when you sent me that letter."

He flinched at the mention of the letter, of how he hadn't at least done it in person. But he could show up a moment's notice after learning about Draco. "He's a mistake. You don't see it because you're...whatever with him, but he's going to hurt you. It's inevitable."

"Fuck off."

Ron's eyes shot open, and she barely had time to wonder if she had been spending too much time around Draco before he whispered her name. "You can't be serious. This is—"

"I am serious." She stalked toward him, glaring. "All things considered, this went better than I expected, but I'm not going to change my mind. If you never accept it, then fine."

He blinked. "You're shitting me. We've been friends for how long, and you're going to choose a fucking Death Eater over our friendship."

"Time to go, Weasley." Draco called from the door, that neither she nor Ron had noticed opening again. Leaned against the frame with his wand in hand so he wouldn't be caught off guard again, Draco looked threatening. She recognised all in the same sweeping moment.

He wasn't defending himself at all. He meant to step in for her, so she wouldn't have to listen to Ron's broken record of reasons to change her mind.

"Who do you think you are?" Ron snapped. "I wouldn't listen to the likes of you, and you should watch your step."

Draco didn't give a visceral reaction. "Get out, or I'll drag you out myself."

Whether Ron took the threat seriously, or not, Hermione didn't know. Ron glanced to her, still angry, before turning on his heel and storming out of the cabin. He muttered about Death Eaters even then, and all she wanted to do was force him to realise that it didn't define who Draco was _now._

Footsteps pounded up the steps, and Olivia burst into the room. Her hair was frizzy, her toothbrush still clasped in her hand as she shot panicked looks toward both of them. "I'm _so_ sorry. My dad is an Auror, and we exchange letters every week. I told him about how we had to push you two together—he's thrilled by way, was rooting for Draco, which was really surprising—but he must have said it where,"

Draco placed his hand over her mouth. "Take a deep breath before you choke."

Even though she listened, she was rambling as soon as she opened her mouth.

"It's okay," Hermione said. "We aren't upset. You have no reason to apologise, or blame yourself."

Olivia stared at her shoes. "He was really mean to you both. I didn't mean for that to happen."

"Stop right there. You're no responsible for someone else's actions. Everything is fine." Hermione promised, still wishing she wasn't only in a bathrobe as Olivia rushed for her. Hermione patted the girl's back. "Go on, we'll be out soon."

* * *

Later that night, close to curfew, Draco tried to get away for himself. Not that they discussed it, but with each passing day it grew harder to be alone. The children, all of them now, liked to eavesdrop. They made a game of it with a running tally of how many times they could interrupt Draco or Hermione.

So after a snog by the Great Lake, which was teetering on the edge of skinny dipping during a heated game of truth or dare, Henry's laugh had given the hiding place away.

Hermione laughed as Draco roared, "Back to bed, the lot of you! Go!" He herded them back into their cabins while scolding Hannah and Michael.

Their fellow counsellors sat with Lisa and Padma, happy to turn a blind eye for the entertainment it provided.

It was midnight by the time they were away from prying eyes. He murmured for her to sleep with him, and sneak back into her room before sunrise. Afterall, she still hadn't repaired her bed anyway.

She laid under him, slipping her hand under his shirt while running her palms up his chest. She felt the scar that had been left by the Sectumsempra curse, tracing it with her index finger while her breathing ran ragged.

His hand slid over her hip, drawing her leg up and hitching it around his waist. It was as bold as he'd ever been, with his pelvis pressed against hers, and she hoped he wouldn't stop to ask her if she'd like to keep going.

Knowing it would shatter the moment, her resolve, and open the gates for her embarrassment to seep in, Hermione hooked both legs around his waist and pulled him closer and didn't give him the chance to ask.

She whispered his name in his ear, a throaty moan leaving her, when he kissed down her neck. He traced her collarbone, the cluster of white lined scars there, with the tip of his tongue, and all she could do was shudder. "Draco, Draco,"

"Merlin," he groaned right below her ear. Draco rolled off of her, pulling her into the curve of his arm, her head resting on his bicep. "Come here." He propped himself up slightly, kissing her again until she was breathless.

It was Hermione that made the first move. She grabbed his hand, pulling it down her stomach and to just above the apex of her thighs. She glanced at him, nibbling her bottom lip as her nerves threatened to cause her to pretend it had never happen. Hermione didn't mean for her voice to sound quite so breathy as she whispered, nearly begging, "Please?"

Intimacy had never scared her, but as his fingers pressed against her clit through her sleep shorts, Hermione found the way he gazed at her both exhilarating and terrifying. She broke, a moan escaping her as she attempted to muffle it against his shoulder.

Draco reached behind him, grabbing his wand and casting the silencing spell over the room. "Want to hear you," he groaned, his fingers dipping below her waistband.

The first time his fingers brushed against her clit, something that had never been touched by anyone but her, Hermione cried out. Surprise colored her voice, and her head tipped back. "Oh, God,"

She was slick, and he rubbed her clit with slow movements, soft touches as she were a fragile doll. Hermione looped her arms around his neck, whimpering into his neck as she bit down. "More."

He met her demands eagerly, one finger sliding into her, curling inside of her and the motion dragged a long moan from her. "You're stunning," Draco whispered. "Gorgeous," He murmured, adding another finger.

"I'm a virgin," she blurted, her face heated up immediately. "That was stupid. I just didn't know if it mattered to you, and you're experienced, so—"

He silenced the worries, and reassured them all at once by lowering his lips to hers. "Shh,"

"Shouldn't I…?" Hermione reached down, cupping his erection through his trousers.

A hiss passed through his teeth. "Not that I'm bloody like to turn you down,"

She grinned. "Yet you are,"

His fingers curled inside of her again as he growled, "Let me make this about you."

Hermione rocked against his hand, gasping as his thumb swiped across her clit. Letting loose a string of profanity, Hermione didn't argue again.

It was a steady rhythm, his fingers pumping into her and his thumb rubbing slow, almost torturous circles. And then the pace quickened, and he was telling her just how intoxicating she was.

"Draco!" She cried out. Her legs clamped shut as she shook against him. "Sweet fucking Merlin," she panted.

Draco nuzzled her neck, brushing her hair from her sweaty forehead. "You're a vision, Granger."

"It's Hermione," she replied, exhausted.

* * *

 **Next chapter is the final chapter of Hogwarts: Summer Camp. There will also be some news that is hopefully exciting at the end of the chapter when it posts. I'll do my best to have the chapter up in a few days, or by the end of next week. (I say hopefully.) I'd love to hear what you thought if you have anything to say.**


	17. Chapter 17

**This is it. This is the last instalment of Hogwarts: Summer Camp. It's my hope that you have enjoyed it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. I wish I had more to say, but thank you for following, commenting, and making this such an enjoyable experience. I'll see you at the end.**

* * *

"I'm not fooling around with you while there are kids on the other side of this wall. It makes me feel gross." Hermione smacked his wandering hands away, wiggling free of where he held her against him. "Draco," she snapped, exasperated.

"Well, that's not what you were saying a few weeks—"

She glared at him. "I mean while there are children that are still awake."

"That's a relief. So, after they go to sleep—"

* * *

Hermione ate in relative silence, grinning at the scene before her. Lisa was at her side, Padma tucked into her other side as they ate breakfast. "So, how long do you give him before he snaps?" Hermione murmured.

Padma snorted. "Not very long. I think Oliver is asking about Harry just to irritate him now." The dark-haired witch wasn't wrong.

"I mean—" Oliver waved his hands for emphasis, his eyes wide with mirth. "—is it _really_ true that Harry Potter cast a corporeal Patronus at age—"

Hermione covered her mouth, sniggering to herself. She watched Draco's reaction, noticing the way his cheeks were flushed while everyone assaulted him with questions. She froze in place as she realised she'd never asked Draco if his attempts to cast a Patronus had been successful.

The possibility was dizzying.

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, heavily sighing. "Yes, yes, he cast the bloody Patronus, but I suspect that you already knew that."

Oliver rocked back on his heels, his laughter contagious as it bubbled up on his lips. "Definitely not," he said.

Owls swept into the camp, dropping parcels into the laps of all of the campers. In an instant, the playfulness of the morning evaporated as everyone turned over the letters in the laps. Hermione sat frozen in place, her own emotions welling up as there was a familiar sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Henry sat cross legged in the dirt, grass stains spread across his pants. He fingered the parcel tentatively, turning it over and reading his name written across the front. And then he raised his head, looking to Draco, to Hermione, and all of the campers between them. The beginnings of tears had surfaced, his eyes misty under the bright morning sun. "Do we have to go back?"

She moved before she thought about it, slid out from her spot between her two friends, and hurried over to Henry. "We'll still be at Hogwarts together." She murmured. Her own letter was still gripped tightly in her hand, crinkling beneath the weight of her own crippling sadness. If she didn't believe her own words, she wasn't sure how anyone else could be expected to.

Everyone— _everyone_ , including Leanne, who had left her letter where it landed—came closer, sitting in a large circle in the middle of the camp. As Hermione looked around, not everyone was overcome with the onset of tears, but there was no mistaking the overwhelming sadness. She noticed Isobel taking Henry's hand from the other side of him, lacing their fingers together.

"We won't really be together," Isobel said slowly. Her voice was still rough, but Healers at St Mungos said her voice would return to normal through regular speaking. Though she'd developed a sort of speech impediment, presumably from a stray curse that rebounded against a mirror while Isobel's older sister was cursed by Death Eaters. "We'll be in the same castle, but...it's a big castle."

Michael cleared his throat. "We can still—"

Adelaide fidgeted in her spot, untangling her braid. "No, it's not the same. And we might as well say what everyone here is thinking. This is—this is family. It has been for a while now, and I can't stand the thought of not eating breakfast with everyone." She stared at the ground.

Hermione's throat threatened to close as she tried to form any words at all.

Draco's arm brushed hers. "We're returning to Hogwarts, all of us, but it doesn't mean that our family is breaking up."

"Most of us are in separate years," Oliver muttered, running a hand through his hair. His older sister rubbed his back from her spot beside him.

She wasn't sure what to say, but in the end, no one else knew either. She supposed she could have pulled a whimsical piece of advice out of the air, but the silence was fitting. Even though sharp pains stuck in her chest.

* * *

Hermione ripped open the letter away from everyone else, her eyes scanning the typically penned letter. However, another letter had been delivered later in the day as she watched everyone in the lake, with Draco at her side.

She recognised Harry's scrawl the moment she looked at the front of it. Swallowing, she unfolded it.

 _Dear Hermione,_

 _I meant to write sooner. I swear I did, but the Ministry is speeding up the levels of our clearance, and I haven't been in the same place for more than one night in a week. I couldn't send a letter in the case it was intercepted. Though you probably already figured that out for yourself._

 _I'm sorry Ron was a prick. He won't apologise so I'll do it for him. He didn't have any right to barge in and question your relationship. (Even though it's still strange to me, but I'm working on it. I'll get past it.) On that note, he didn't have the right to try and force you to choose. Friends don't do that._

 _I can't wait to see you at the end of the summer. I won't be able to visit long, but I'd like to see you off at the platform. Let me know if that's okay, would you?_

 _If this comes off as rude, I didn't mean for it to. I've rewritten this part of the letter so many times that I may be overthinking it. Are you sure you know what you're doing? I don't doubt you, or your feelings, but I want to ask directly if Malfoy is what you want. It's bizarre thinking of the two of you together, but I thought there was something there when Lestrange attacked you._

 _I heard about it because I'm an Auror in training, but the entire world heard about it after the Wizengamot hearing. When they said you were alone with Malfoy, I thought the worst. I thought he left you, but he saved your life. The Ministry may not agree with the methods, and I may not agree either, but it is what it is. He defended you in the best way he knew how._

 _This is a long letter. What I wanted to say is that I'm sorry for Ron, and I'm trying to make him see this differently. I'm happy for you if you're happy. And you are, from what I saw anyway. Watching you run to him in the atrium that night was like stepping into an alternate reality, but I could see it._

 _No matter who makes you happy, I'll always be your best friend. God, that was cheesy._

 _See you soon hopefully,_

 _Harry._

Hermione read the letter twice more that night while sitting in Draco's room. Her staying in his cabin was the worst kept secret in the camp, but after the first few times, she knew she slept better when he was there. Just like she knew it was the same for him. It might have also had something to do with all of the beginnings of a new relationship, the chemistry, them being unable to keep their hands to themselves for one second.

While sitting in the middle of his bed while Draco showered, Hermione thought that it hadn't been like this with Ron. She didn't compare Ron to Draco, she never would, because it wasn't fair. Draco had already decimated every part of her previous relationship, replacing it with his own actions that left her gasping for breath.

She folded and unfolded Harry's letter, deciding to let Draco read it. She'd come to a decision; Hermione wanted to be open with Draco, no matter the subject matter, even if it seemed like a silly thing to share. Still, she was thrilled that at least one of her friends would support her, even though it meant putting a strain on his own friendships.

Draco exited the shower, but he'd already dressed this time. Still not wearing a shirt since he didn't wear one to bed, a pair of silk pyjama bottoms were slung low on his hips. Hermione smiled to herself, biting her lower lip as she looked him over. His hair was still damp, water dripping off the ends and to the floor.

"What's that?"

She handed over the long piece of parchment. "Letter from Harry. You can read it if you like."

Arching an eyebrow, Draco read it quickly. "He's supportive. A little surprising." He laid the letter on the nightstand, crawling onto the bed to sit in front of her. "I assumed that my killing Rodolphus would end up in the Daily Prophet, but I didn't expect for them to publish that it was for you."

Her eyes widened. "Well, we don't know that they said that."

He shook his head. "I'm sure they did. People will say terrible things to you for it."

"I've never cared about what people say." She said harshly. "They judge you for who you were, and I'm afraid they'll never see you for who you've become."

"What's been bothering you all day?" Draco asked, his voice soft as he looked down at her. "Did you think I wouldn't notice you? I could rattle off an entire list of your tells."

"Do it."

He smiled. "If I did that, you wouldn't do them anymore because you'd be paying attention."

The candle at the bedside flickered, casting shadows across his face. "I don't like that summer is ending."

"Ah,"

"For the first time in my life, returning to Hogwarts doesn't make me happy. I can't mention in front of anyone else because I'm not supposed to be scared, but,"

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Who says you can't be scared?"

She swallowed. "I just don't want them to see me cry. I want to make it better for them." Hermione whispered. "They're so afraid the group we've created will disband as soon as the term starts, and I can't stand the thought of that."

Draco pulled her into his lap, watching as she laid her head in the crook of his neck. "The summer is ending, not us. I mean that as a family," His fingers gently brushed the skin over her rib cage. "And as us. You and me, Hermione."

She liked the sound of it. "You and me."

* * *

Shopping for supplies is Diagon Ally was an event in itself, one that Hermione seriously rethinking her childhood dream of having three children.

It wasn't a nightmare, far from it, but she never wanted to wrangle so many children through their school supply lists ever again. She didn't know how Mrs Weasley did it, and for so many years, but she swore in an instant that it would never be her in that place. Draco caught her eye as she watched Henry, Isobel, Adelaide, and Olivia raid a shop full of treats, emptying all the money they had on bags of sweets.

Her parents would have been horrified. Draco was horrified, but only because he'd split eight galleons among all of them. Two per head at the camp, actually, and they had spent all of their money on sweets.

"You spent all of it on treats?" He gaped in the middle of the street. "Are you shitting me right now?"

He was met with four smiles, but Hermione caught the ugly glares cast by a cluster of middle-class witches standing across the street. She took Draco's hand, whispering, "Shh, you'll cause a scene."

Draco turned his head quick enough that he caught her lips with his own. She could feel his smile as he kissed her slowly. It was enough to make a scene of its own.

"Gross!" Henry yelled, and when they parted he was covering his eyes. "How do I purify my eyes. Where's the apothecary? That was _gross_."

Isobel cocked her head to the side. "You'll say that until _you_ snog a girl."

* * *

There were only four days left. Four days to soak up the remaining days of summer that seemed like vanish each time she blinked. Hermione sighed in the bathroom, gripping the sink as she glared at her reflection.

Hermione found Draco reading on the bed, a pair of glasses on his face. She didn't comment on them but found they were very cute on him. "I have a question."

"Alright." He tucked a scrap piece of parchment into the book, marking its place, and snapped it shut. "What is it?"

She shuffled before him, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "First of all, I have to admit that I spied on you earlier this summer while you were with Padma. I'm sorry for invading your privacy, but I couldn't help myself."

He chuckled. "Now that I believe. You're nosy. What is it?"

"I saw you practising, or trying to cast a Patronus," Hermione said quickly, her words slurring together. "I was wondering if you ever achieved it."

The humour vanished from his face, his face draining of colour. "I haven't tried since I killed Lestrange. The Patronus Charm is Light magic. Surely I don't have to remind you of that."

"But—"

He held a hand up. "I know that you see the best in me. It's one of the things I love about you, but I'm not able to cast it."

She stared at the floor. "Could I convince you to try, just once?"

Draco sighed, which was how she knew she had him. He donned his slippers, glaring her way as he snatched his wand and held the door open for her. "You're the worst. You just stare at me with those wide brown eyes, and pout because you know I'll do whatever you want if you do."

She followed him before he changed his mind. "I don't pout."

He rolled his eyes, grabbing her hand and all but dragging her through the forest. "It's even worse that you don't notice when you do it." Draco led her to the same clearing where he'd practised with Padma.

Raising his wand, he moved it through the motions of the triangle, and spoke clearly, " _Expecto Patronum._ " There was a wispy trail of magic, but no more than that. "I told you. Can we please go back to bed now?"

Hermione frowned, grabbing his arm and stopping him. "You didn't try."

His eyebrows shot up.

"You didn't really try, Draco. You're going through the motions, but I know you didn't focus. Focus, on the happiest memory you have, and try again. Please." She smiled up at him, and he grumbled under his breath.

"Alright, alright, fine. Whatever you want."

Hermione took two steps backward, her back brushing against the tree that was on the very edge of the clearing. She waited impatiently, chewing her nails.

Draco planted his feet, staring several moments before raising his wand. She counted the breaths he took. _One, two, three._ " _Expecto Patronum."_ A bright light filled the clearing, a large creature shooting free of his wand and tearing across the open patch of forest where the trees caged it in.

Wide eyes, her heart lodged snugly in her throat, Hermione lowered her arms as she took it all in. "Oh, my _God._ " Trotting directly to her was a lion easily three times the size of her, it's mane just as wild as hers. She raised a trembling hand, her fingers passing through it's head as she made the silly attempt to pet it.

It vanished into nothing, the night returning to the former darkness. Draco was standing across from her, his lips parted in shock. His first words were, "I didn't know that was going to happen."

A giggle came from her, her knees shaking as she stared at him. "I did. I always knew you would—a _lion_? I don't understand."

He closed the gap between them, cupping her face and gazing down at her. "It's you, it's been you, it's going to be you." He choked on a strained, semi-awkward laugh. "No pressure."

Hermione held either side of his face, stretching up on her tiptoes, and pressing her lips to his. In the same movement, a move they had practised several times by that point, his hands caught the backs of her knees, lifting her against him. "The memory," she murmured between kisses. "Can I ask?"

"You sprinting to me in the atrium, crashing into me while the whole bloody world is watching. While Weasley is open-mouthed because of the way you threw your hands around my neck. Fuck, it's you. How could it not be?"

Her fingers sunk into his hair, tugging harshly. "Draco, I—"

A branch snapped.

She laughed breathlessly as Draco hissed, "Are you shitting me right now? Can I ground them? I'm grounding them until the end of the bloody summer, and I'm putting a sticking charm in their beds."

Draco lowered her to the ground, the heated moment certainly not forgotten. He sprinted through the Forbidden Forest, following the hurried " _Shite, shite, shite. He's going to murder us all." "It's been a nice life." "Oh, my God, did you hear those lines. Draco's smooth as fuck."_

Hermione was far too busy to keep up with them, her pace slowing to a walk. By the time she exited the forest, Draco was giving a scolding that any mother could have appreciated.

The ones that referred to themselves as 'Team Summer Camp Romance' consisted of Henry, Adelaide, Olivia, and Isobel. Every single one of them was staring at the ground as they took their verbal lashing.

"—any of you is caught outside after curfew in the next four days, so help me Merlin. I don't know what I'm going to do, but it won't be pleasant!"

Henry looked up. "We were curious..."

"Henry wasn't curious anymore when you started snogging against the tree." Olivia retorted. "Which we didn't mean to see." She paused. "Which, also, we should have expected. It's the middle of the night. What else are you doing in the middle of the Forbidden Forest?"

Henry interupted. "I just don't understand. Why not do it in a bed? I know her bed is broken, but yours isn't!"

Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth as the bed Ron had broken was mentioned.

"It's called exhibitionism." Olivia rolled her eyes. "What? My mum used to keep all sorts of books around."

Draco let his hands fall into his hands. "No more sneaking out, or I'll put you in your beds with permanent sticking charms."

Isobel snorted. "Okay, _Dad_."

Draco cast a look back at Hermione, shooting a wry grin at her as he shrugged his shoulders. "Well, you wouldn't want to see Mum when she's angry either."

* * *

On the last day of summer, which was filled with tears, more laughs that had been shared over the entire summer, and embarrassing stories, two letters arrived. Hermione looked at Draco, blinking, but tore hers open.

 _Dear Miss Granger,_

 _I apologise this letter finds you on the last day of summer. I hope your summer hols have been splendidly spent. Typically we would send these with your Hogwarts letter, but there was some extra deliberation this year. You've been selected as the Head Girl of Hogwarts for the academic year of 1998-1999. Attached is your pin. I look forward to seeing you at the feast._

 _P.S. From what I've been told, I suspect that you will work very well with the Head Boy._

 _Headmistress Minerva McGonagall._

 _Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

The enamel pin fell from the parcel, the scarlet glistening under the sun. Her newly minted title was scrawled across it, and Hermione held it up in disbelief.

"This is a hard fuck no!" Draco yelled.

She finally looked at him, her heart coming to a sudden stop in her chest. In his hand, twinkling in the warm sunlight just like hers, was the twin of her Head Girl badge. She stared at him, unable to think of anything to say at the moment. ' _...work very well with the Head Boy…'_

"You're Head Boy." Hermione shrieked, throwing her arms around his neck.

"No, no, no. I'm definitely not Head Boy." Draco insisted.

"We're going to get away with so much!" Henry shouted, fist pumping the air.

She turned her head, kissing his cheek before leaned forward.

"How much do you think Mum and Dad will let us get away with?" Olivia asked.

Dennis snorted. "Hopefully everything."

"What if other students are cruel to Draco?" Oliver worried.

Silence fell, and someone cleared their throat. "It's pretty simple." Leanne drawled, looking to Malfoy. "I won't call you Dad, but I'll hex the shite out of anyone who even looks at you wrong."

Draco's mouth fell open. "What? Katie—"

Leanne waved her hand. "Water on the bridge, Malfoy. Let me know who needs hexing. Hufflepuffs are good at hiding things too, you know."

"Like what?" Henry asked.

Isobel cracked her knuckles, nodding to her housemate, Leanne. "Bodies, obviously."

"Wait a minute," Draco choked. "I can't even accept this. I don't—"

Hermione whispered in his ear, "Did you forget the Head Boy and Head Girl share a common room. We could still share a bedroom."

He clamped his mouth shut. "Alright, I'll do it."

* * *

 **I wrote all of this tonight, so if there were errors, I do apologise. As always, I'm keen to hear your thoughts, any you may want to pass on.**

 **Announcement: As a rule for myself, I really hate sequels. Truly. I always think that no story I have to tell needs to continue. However, I'm breaking my rule. It will not be soon, as I have at least four things to write, but by late Fall, or Winter, there will be a sequel. It's tentatively (read: cheesily) titled Hogwarts: Eighth Year. I'll plot accordingly later this year, but there were some readers who requested a sequel, which is honestly one of the highest compliments you could give me, so there you are.**

 **Till next time! If you enjoy my writing, I'm currently posting another dramione. It's a magical AU titled Kismet if you would like to give it a go.**


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